THE  MEXICAN  REVOLUTION 


THE    FIRST    MKKTINC,. 


ROBERT  ^  *  * 
<*  ^  ^GORDON 


JOHN    E.     BEADLES 


Published 


PUBLISH    I 

835      BROADWAY 


BROADWAY 
NG       COMPANY 
NEW      YORK 


Copyright  1903 

by 
J.  E.  BEADLES 


THIS  VOLUME  IS  DEDICATED 

TO  LUTIE 

AS  A  SLIGHT  MEMORIAL  OF  A  FATHER'S  AFFECTION 
FOR  AN  ONLY  DAUGHTER. 

October  20,  1902. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  I.  PAOK 

My  Native  Land   1 

CHAPTER  II. 
Near    the    Dark    River    12 

CHAPTER   III. 
Ameng  the  Comanche  Indians   20 

CHAPTER  IV. 
The    Captive 31 

CHAPTER  V. 
The  Rescue 45 

CHAPTER  VI. 
The  Conde's  Proposition   64 

CHAPTER  VII. 
An    Acceptable    Position    76 

CHAPTER  VIII. 
Durango    93 

CHAPTER  IX. 
A  Teacher  of  English 104 

CHAPTER  X. 
The  Thunder   Storm    121 

CHAPTER   XI. 
The    Heretic    139 

CHAPTER  XII. 
Driven    Away    154 

CHAPTER  XIII. 
A  Rebel  Colonel   .  173 


2209205 


vi  Contents. 

CHAPTER  XIV.  PAO« 

Battle  of  Mt.  Mextpal   202 

CHAPTER  XV. 
The    Two    Camps    United    217 

CHAPTER  XVI. 
Twice   a   Captive    225 

CHAPTER  XVII. 
Rescued    Again    241 

CHAPTER  XVIII. 
The  Tide  Turned    260 

CHAPTER  XIX. 
Friends   Indeed    283 

CHAPTER  XX. 
In  the  Mountains  Again    291 

CHAPTER  XXI. 
Three    Graves    318 

CHAPTER  XXII. 
Bound  for  the   United   States    335 

CHAPTER  XXIII. 
The    Parting    343 

CHAPTER  XXIV. 
Among  Friends  and  Enemies    352 

CHAPTER  XXV. 
Love,  the  Power  that  Conquers  All    379 

CHAPTER    XXVI. 
Kidnapped    396 

CHAPTER  XXVII. 
United  at  Last   415 

CHAPTER  XXVIII. 
Conclusion    434 


INTRODUCTION. 

WK  desire  to  say  to  you,  before  you  read  this  work,  that 
it  is  not  all  original,  for  a  great  part  has  been  compiled 
from  the  best  histories  of  Mexico,  and  also  from  the  diary 
of  my  grandfather,  who  traveled  over  a  large  part  of 
the  territory  which  my  hero  travels.  You  will  find  that 
we  have  interwoven  with  these  historical  facts,  fiction 
enough  to  give  it  the  form  of  a  story;  thinking  that  by 
so  doing,  it  will  be  more  interesting.  And  believing  that 
personal  experience  is  always  more  attractive  when  related 
by  the  principal  actor,  we  have  assumed  in  this  work, 
that  he  is  giving  a  history  of  his  own  life. 

But  while  you  notice  the  acts  of  our  hero,  we  wish  you 
to  look  into  the  conditions  of  thait  country,  one  of  the 
brightest  portions  of  the  American  continent,  rich  in 
minerals,  vegetation  and  natural  resources;  but  a  pauper 
in  everything  that  makes  a  nation.  Then  see  if  you 
cannot  find  a  parallel  in  the  condition  of  every  country 
where  tyranny  has  ruled. 

However  this  may  be,  if  we  can  entertain,  instruct,  and 
make  you  better  by  what  we  have  here  written,  we  will 
have  done  all  that  we  have  attempted.  J.  E.  B. 


ROBERT  GORDON. 


CHAPTER  I. 

MY  NATIVE  LAND. 

Where'er  I  roam,  whatever  lands  I  see, 
My  heart,  untraveled,  fondly  turns  to  thee. 

— GOLDSMITH. 

IN  the  autumn  of  the  year  1828,  I  set  out  from  Massa- 
chusetts for  the  remote  regions  of  the  southwest  on  the 
Spanish  frontier,  where  I  reside.  When  I  entered  the 
steamboat  from  Philadelphia  to  Baltimore,  having  taken 
a  general  survey  of  the  motley  group,  which  is  usually 
seen  in  such  places,  my  eyes  finally  rested  on  a  young 
gentleman,  apparently  between  twenty-five  and  thirty  years 
of  age,  remarkable  for  his  handsome  face,  the  symmetry 
of  his  form,  and  for  his  uncommon  union  of  interest, 
benevolence,  modesty  and  manly  thought,  which  are  seldom 
seen  united  in  a  male  countenance  of  great  beauty.  I  am 
a  firm  believer  in  animal  magnetism,  but  I  admit  that  this 
electrical  attraction  of  kindred  minds  at  first  sight  is 


2  Robert  Gordon. 

inexplicable.  The  world  may  laugh  at  the  impression  if 
it  pleases.  I  have,  through  life,  found  myself  attracted 
or  repelled  at  first  sight,  and  oftentimes  without  being 
able  to  find  in  the  object  of  these  feelings  any  assignable 
reason,  either  for  the  one  or  the  other.  I  have  experienced, 
too,  that,  on  after  acquaintance,  I  have  seldom  had  occasion 
to  find  these  first  impressions  deceptive. 

There  was  something  in  this  young  gentleman,  which 
immediately  and  strongly  enlisted  my  feelings  in  his  favor, 
and  I  watched,  during  the  passage,  to  make  such  acquaint- 
ance with  him  as  such  places  admit.  No  decorous 
opportunity  for  such  acquaintance  occurred,  and  I  only 
learned  from  the  way-book  that  his  name  was  Eobert 
Gordon,  for  Durango  in  Mexico. 

Perhaps  the  circumstances  which  so  much  fixed  my 
attention,  upon  the  young  gentleman  were  an  indescribable 
air  of  contentment  and  tranquillity,  as  though  satisfied 
with  himself;  a  carelessness  of  the  observation  of  others 
as  though  he  had  been  alone  in  the  boat.  Nothing  interests 
me  so  much  in  a  person  as  to  see  him  deriving  his 
resources  from  himself,  and  not  drawing  upon  the  feverish 
stimulants  of  display,  and  the  fancied  figure  which  he 
makes  in  the  eyes  of  another;  but  on  the  reflections  and 
enjoyments  which  spring  up  spontaneously  within  himself. 
His  dress  and  his  servants  indicated  wealth,  and  his 
countenance  wore  the  tinge  of  a  southern  sun.  I  noticed 
that  there  was  a  common  feeling  on  board  the  boat  to 
learn  who  he  was.  This  was  particularly  discernible  among 
the  young  ladies.  But,  though  his  manners  indicated 
great  courtesy,  he  seemed  rather  shy  of  communication; 
and  there  were  many  who  left  the  boat,  probably  suffering 
more  from  the  pain  of  ungratified  curiosity,  than  I  did. 
In  Baltimore  I  lost  sight  of  him. 

I  crossed  the  mountains  on  the  national  road  to  Wheel- 


My  Native  Land.  3 

ing  and  descended  the  Ohio  to  Louisville,  at  which  place 
I  embarked  on  board  a  steamboat  bound  for  the  place 
of  my  final  destination.  My  first  look  upon  my  fellow 
passengers  discovered  among  them  the  fine  looking,  digni- 
fied stranger,  who  had  interested  me  so  much  on  my  way 
to  Baltimore.  The  river  was  very  low.  His  course  must 
be  the  same  as  mine  for  several  hundred  miles.  Our 
captain  calculated  that  his  boat  would  frequently  ground, 
and,  of  course,  did  not  think  of  running  at  night.  The 
passengers  were  mostly  young  men  of  that  empty  and 
boisterous  character  that  is  but  too  common  on  these 
waters;  men  equally  without  manners,  who  know  only  to 
swear,  play  cards  and  drink.  I  felt  pleased  to  think  that 
the  .stranger  could  not  escape  my  acquaintance;  that,  in 
our  assortment  of  passengers,  a  man  of  his  apparent 
character  could  not  have  a  fellow  feeling  with  them,  and 
that  I  should  find  in  his  society  a  relief  from  the  tedium 
of  a  long  and  tiresome  passage  and  the  impatience  of 
a  prolonged  absence  'from  my  family.  A  steamboat  without 
a  suitable  companion  becomes  a  prison. 

Our  passage  was  made  under  very  pleasant  circumstances 
apart  from  the  character  of  the  passengers.  We  had  a 
fine  boat,  an  obliging  captain,  and  an  excellent  fare.  It 
is  a  beautiful  river,  particularly  in  the  autumn.  Its 
shores  furnished  us  with  plenty  of  game,  and  when  we 
lay  by  on  its  wide,  clean  sandbars,  we  amused  ourselves 
by  shooting  among  the  countless  multitude  of  ducks  and 
geese.  When  the  boat  grounded,  as  it  often  did,  while 
the  hands  were  getting  her  off,  we  had  our  pleasant  prome- 
nades in  the  woods,  some  in  pursuit  of  game  and  some 
for  wild  fruits.  The  weather  was  delightful.  Nature, 
too,  was  laying  on  iher  best  coloring  in  her  grand  painting 
of  the  season,  in  all  the  hues  of  red,  purple,  yellow  and 
green.  When  disengaged  from  the  bars  our  boat  swept 


4  Robert  Gordon. 

swiftly  and  majestically  around  the  curves  of  the  river. 
The  rest  raised  their  reckless  laugh,  told  their  stale  jests, 
and  played  their  cards  to  their  own  satisfaction.  Our 
mutual  want  of  taste  for  these  enjoyments  brought  us 
together,  and  acquaintance  led  to  intimacy.  Our  com- 
munications became  frank  and  cordial,  and  we  as  naturally 
seated  ourselves  under  the  awning  on  the  deck  to  enjoy 
the  autumnal  landscape  and  taste  the  cool  breeze,  and 
to  enter  into  these  pleasant  conversations,  as  the  rest  sat 
down  to  their  cards.  Of  course,  we  inquired  the  place 
of  each  other's  birth  and  residence,  and  were  naturally  led, 
in  the  progress  of  this  acquaintance,  to  go  into  the  color 
and  events  of  our  past  lives.  I  communicated  without 
reserve  "the  short  and  simple  annals"  of  my  career  thus 
far  on  life's  pilgrimage;  encouraged  by  the  promise  that 
this  confidence  should  be  repaid  by  the  history  of  his  own. 

It  was  commenced,  laid  aside  and  resumed,  as  our 
feelings,  the  temperature  and  circumstances  dictated.  As 
his  story  advanced,  my  interest  became  intense.  This 
story  I  now  propose  to  give  to  the  reader,  as  I  received  it 
from  him.  If  it  interests  him  half  as  much  as  it  did  me 
he  will  not  complain  that  I  have  token  him  along  with 
me  as  a  companion. 

He  premised  his  narrative  by  observing  that  he  should 
have  to  apologize  for  the  frequent  use  of  the  important 
pronoun  of  the  first  person,  and  the  necessity  of  recurring 
to  this  own  exploits  and  his  own  praises.  I  insisted  that 
he  should  begin,  and  that  he  should  tell  all.  "If,"  he 
replied,  "you  find  me  in  this  history  as  a  very  pretty 
fellow,  only  ask  yourself  how  I  could  help  it  ?  And  when 
you  hear  extravagant  and  foolish  praise  of  this  sort,  or  any 
other,  we  will  agree  not  to  look  in  each  other's  faces,  and 
you  must  suppose  this  the  idle  exaggeration  of  a  very 
partial  third  person. 


My  Native  Land.  5 

"Besides,  I  forewarn  you,  that,  although  nothing  will 
be  related  but  what  most  certainly  did  take  place,  nothing 
but  what  is  most  strictly  true,  much  of  my  story  will 
have  in  your  eye  the  semblance  of  being  too  wide  from 
the  common  course  of  events,  and  of  drawing  largely  on 
your  readiness  to  believe  on  the  faith  of  the  narrator. 
But  if  the  whole  story  of  the  Mexican  Eevolution  could 
be  told,  a  thousand  adventures,  in  comparison  of  which 
mine  would  assume  the  air  of  commonplace  occurrences.  I 
forestall  another  charge:  if  I  really  describe  myself  as  I 
have  been,  and  my  adventures  as  they  occurred,  this  true 
history  will  seem  to  you  little  short  of  a  romance.  You 
matter-of-fact  people  here  in  the  States  are  inclined  either 
to  ridicule  romantic  feelings  and  adventures,  or,  still 
worse,  to  view  it  as  having  immoral  tendencies  and  tending 
to  unbalance  the  mind,  and  unfit  it  for  the  severer  and  more 
important  duties  of  life." 

"Have  no  fears  on  that  score,"  I  cried,  "for  I,  at  least, 
am  not  one  of  them.  It  is  so  long  since  I  have  heard  any- 
thing but  dollars  and  cents,  the  mere  mercenary  details  of 
existence,  that  I  long  to  be  introduced  to  another  world. 
I  heartily  despise  the  idle  declamation  against  romance, 
which  I  so  often  hear.  Poesy  and  romance  are  the  higher 
and  holier  matters  of  the  intellectual  world.  All  noble 
conceptions,  all  holy  thoughts  in  the  mind,  are  undoubt- 
edly connected  with  the  qualified  love  and  indulgences  of 
romantic  feelings.  It  is  the  only  thing  that  will  cause 
one  to  die  for  his  country.  It  is  the  very  foundation  of 
patriotism. 

"God  know*  the  tendency  of  everything  in  this  country, 
and  in  the  world  at  this  time,  is  just  toward  this  order 
of  things.  The  first  question  of  the  marriageable  daughter 
is  that  of  the  sagacious  father,  how  much  money  has  he? 
What  are  his  expectations?  We  would  not  have  silly 


6  Robert  Gordon. 

damsels  pine  over  sickening  and  long-winded  tales  of  love ; 
but  the  more  chivalrous,  high-minded  and  romantic  our 
young  people  are  raised  the  better.  I  would  have  little 
hopes  of  a  young  man  until  I  was  persuaded  that  his 
bosom  had  at  some  time  expanded  with  dreams  of  romance. 
How  delightfully  Addison  lets  us  into  this  bosom  in 
detailing  one  of  his  day  dreams.  Away  with  the  miserable 
idea  of  rendering  men  more  selfish  than  they  are.  I 
would  much  rather  the  eye  of  my  child  would  kindle  at 
hearing  the  recitation  of  beautiful  verses  than  to  be  dazzled 
by  the  glitter  of  gold.  Indiscriminate  avidity  for  romance 
may  be  a  great  evil.  I  contend  not  for  the  abuse  of 
anything.  Deprive  life  of  its  poesy,  existence  of  imagi- 
nation, and  what  do  you  leave  us?  You  need  have  no 
fears  of  being  romantic.  You  have  awakened  curiosity 
from  a  new  source;  and  this  is  just  the  time  and  place  to 
listen  to  a  story  of  that  sort." 
He  then  told  the  following  story: 

I  am  happy  to  find  that  we  are  natives  of  the 
same  State.  I  was  born  in  a  small  village  not  far 
from  Boston.  I  was  the  youngest  but  two,  of  eight  chil- 
dren, and  reared  in  the  strictest  form  of  the  Puritan 
church,  and  I  feel  the  benefit  of  this  early  training.  I  am 
sure  that  my  early  impressions  were  engraven  too  deeply 
on  my  heart  to  be  erased. 

With,  what  delight  I  trace  the  remembrance  of  my 
youth  in  that  dearest  and  best  of  all  lands!  Where  can 
be  found  on  this  earth  better  principles,  better  nurtured 
and  happier  families  than  those  of  that  region?  Even 
yet,  after  so  many  years  of  wandering  and  vicissitudes,  I 
recall  in  my  dreams  the  hoary  head  and  the  venerable 
form  of  that  father,  who  used  to  bend  the  knee  before  us 
in  family  prayer,  and  who  taught  my  infant  voice  to  pray. 


My  Native  Land.  7 

I  find  pictured  in  my  mind  that  long  range  of  meadows, 
which  front  our  village  church.  I  see  my  father  at  the 
head,  and  my  mother  and  the  rest  of  the  family,  according 
to  their  ages,  following  each  other's  steps  through  those 
delightful  meadows,  as  we  went  up  to  the  house  of  God. 
I  see  even  now  the  meadow-pink,  and  hear  the  note  of 
the  lark,  startled  and  soaring  from  our  path.  There 
is  the  slow  and  limpid  stream,  in  which  I  have  angled  and 
bathed  a  thousand  times.  There  was  the  hum  of  the 
bees  on  the  fragrant  clover.  Well,  too,  do  I  remember 
the  venerable  minister,  with  his  white  hair,  his  earnest 
voice  and  familiar  form.  The  small  and  rustic  church 
was  filled  to  overflowing  with  those  who  had  there  received 
baptism,  and  who  expected  to  repose  with  their  fathers 
in  the  adjoining  consecrated  enclosier.  And  there,  opposite 
to  the  church,  was  the  village  school  house,  one  of  those 
thousand  nurseries  of  our  country's  greatness.  Dear 
remembrances !  How  often  ye  visited  my  dreams  in  the 
desolate  land  of  the  stranger. 

Excuse  digressions  which  force  themselves  upon  me 
whenever  I  compare  the  land  of  my  birth  with  the  coun- 
tries in  which  I  have  since  sojourned.  I  pass  over  the 
events  of  my  early  years,  observing  only  that  I  was  the 
most  limber  athlete,  the  best  wrestler,  swimmer  and  skater 
in  school.  I  was  the  favorite  of  my  father  and  mother, 
and  was  therefore  selected  to  be  the  scholar  of  the  family. 
I  was  the  favorite  of  the  school,  too,  until  it  was  divulged 
that  I  was  to  be  sent  to  college.  From  that  time  I  had 
to  encounter  my  full  share  of  envy.  I  was  sent  to  an 
academy,  and  thence  in  due  process  of  time  to  Harvard 
College,  where  I  graduated  with  the  usual  honors. 

Of  the  character  I  formed,  of  the  impressions  I  received 
at  that  rich  and  noble  institution,  I  am  not,  perhaps,  an 
adequate  judge.  I  believe  you  were  educated  in  the  same 


8  Robert  Gordon. 

school.  I  was  naturally  studious  and  sedentary  in  my 
habits,  reading  and  devouring  everything  that  came  in 
my  way.  A  strong  propensity  inclined  me  to  visionary 
musings,  and  dreaming  with  my  eyes  open.  I  theorized, 
speculated,  doubted  and  tasked  my  thoughts  to  penetrate 
the  nature  of  mind,  and  the  region  of  possibility.  I  investi- 
gated with  eagerness  the  evidence  of  an  eventful  hereafter. 
I  read  the  works  of  Socrates,  Plato,  Cicero  and  Seneca, 
and  was  prepared  by  reading  them  for  the  perusal  of  the 
Gospel.  I  placed  before  my  mind  the  simple  grandeur 
of  the  lowly  Nazarene,  compared  with  these  sages.  I  was 
deeply  struck  with  the  tender  and  affectionate  spirit  of  the 
apostles.  In  what  a  different  world  was  the  empire  of 
their  thoughts  and  hopes!  How  wide  in  their  views, 
sentiments  and  aims  from  the  men  of  the  world !  Here 
were  men,  to  whom  riches,  power,  ambition  and  distinction 
were  as  nothing.  All  that  the  world  hopes  or  fears  was 
to  them  a  mere  childish  dream.  What  motives  for  an 
unalterable  resignation ! 

None  had  yet  discovered  my  propensities  for  display. 
It  had  kindled  with  the  dreams  of  ambition.  Nothing 
had  fed  my  thoughts  like  our  national  celebrations  and 
gatherings  of  the  people  upon  solemn  or  festive  occasions. 
When  the  long  and  solemn  procession  was  formed,  when 
all  that  was  imposing  and  venerable  in  place  and  office 
joined  it,  when  the  gorgeous  ranks  of  the  volunteer  corps 
were  displayed,  and  the  full  band  struck  up,  unobserved 
tears  would  fill  my  eyes.  My  bosom  swelled.  And  I  would 
return  to  my  study,  and  "Thou,"  I  said  to  myself,  "art 
destined  to  poverty  and  obscurity.  Every  avenue  to 
wealth  and  fame  has  been  preoccupied,  and  you  must  expect 
to  make  your  grave  with  the  countless  millions  who  are 
forgotten."  The  first  and  favorite  wish  of  my  parents 
was  that  I  should  become  a  minister  of  the  gospel,  But  I 


My  Native  Land.  9 

had  too  high  an  estimate  of  the  sacredness  of  those  func- 
tions, and  too  deep  and  just  a  sense  of  my  constitutional 
disqualifications  to  assume  that  profession. 

I  graduated  in  my  nineteenth  year,  and  a  little  before 
that  time  my  mind  received  that  coloring,  and  took  that 
bent,  which  has  determined  my  course  and  caused  me  to 
become  what  I  am.  I  became  extravagantly  fond  of  books 
of  voyages  and  travels.  I  frequently  wished  to  float  down 
from  the  head  waters  of  the  Mississippi  to  the  Gulf,  or  to 
follow  the  intrepid  Lewis  and  Clark  over  the  Eocky  Moun- 
tains to  the  western  sea.  I  have  introduced  this  digres- 
sion to  account  to  you  for  those  original  impulses,  under 
the  influences  of  which  I  have  been  a  wanderer  in  the 
distant  region  where  I  now  have  my  home. 

It  pains  me  to  remember  the  disappointment  and  distress 
of  my  parents  when  they  ascertained  that  my  mind  had 
taken  this  new  direction.  Words  would  fail  me  to  describe 
the  remonstrances  and  disputes  which  they  held  with  me, 
to  persuade  me  from  my  purpose.  How  often  did  my 
mother  paint  to  me  the  desolation  and  sinking  of  heart 
which  I  should  experience,  if  I  were  cast  on  a  sick  bed  in 
a  strange  land,  and  far  away  from  her  affectionate  nurs- 
ing. When  they  demanded  of  me  my  plans,  and  what  ulti- 
mate views  I  had  in  this  new  and  boundless  country,  I 
could  give  them  but  a  vague  idea,  for  they  were  too  indefi- 
nite for  me  to  define.  I  knew  that  I  intended  to  descend 
this  river  and  the  Mississippi,  and  ascend  the  Ked  Eiver, 
of  the  beauty  and  wealth  of  which  I  had  formed  the  most 
extravagant  ideas;  and  I  had  a  presentiment  of  future 
greatness,  wealth,  and  happiness  to  befall  me  somewhere  in 
the  Spanish  country  beyond,  that  I  intended  to  make  my 
way  as  well  as  I  could,  and  follow  the  leading  of  events. 
When  my  resolutions  were  once  formed,  I  had  inherited 
from  my  father  inflexibility  of  purpose.  My  father  had 


io  Robert  Gordon. 

so  often  applauded  this  trait  in  my  character,  and  with  no 
small  satisfaction,  had  so  often  traced  the  lineage  of  this 
virtue  to  himself,  that  he  could  poorly  blame  me  for  the 
exercise  of  it  in  the  present  case.  He  hinted  to  me.  indeed, 
what  a  glorious  prospect  there  was,  that  I  might  succeed 
the  present  minister  of  our  parish,  who  was  old  and  infirm ; 
or  if  I  would  rather  choose  to  he  a  lawyer,  that  when  he 
should  become  a  justice,  a  dignity  to  which  he  had  been 
aiming  for  years,  I  might  perhaps  attend  the  sessions,  and 
plead  before  him.  He  touched  upon  the  universal  homage 
paid  to  a  doctor,  his  plump  pony,  his  neat  saddle  bags,  and 
his  glorious  long  bills.  All  would  not  do ;  and  my  friends 
all  allowed  that  I  was  a  headstrong  and  stubborn  dog,  just 
like  my  father  before  me ;  and  that  it  was  a  fine  genius,  a 
fine  face,  and  a  college  education,  all  thrown  away.  My 
mother's  remonstrance  was  the  most  painful  of  all,  for  I 
knew  she  loved  me  with  her  whole  heart  and  soul.  With 
how  much  earnestness  and  affection  she  painted  to  me  the 
solid  independence  and  greatness  which  I  should  be  sure 
to  attain  at  home,  all  of  which  I  was  throwing  away  on  a 
romantic  and  visionary  project  in  the  wilderness  of  the 
West ;  all  this  I  had  but  too  much  cause  to  remember  after- 
ward. Those  who  had  envied  me,  already  took  up  a  lam- 
entation over  me,  as  though  the  predictions  about  me  had 
actually  been  accomplished ;  and  took  it  for  granted  that  in 
poverty  and  misery  I  should  end  my  days. 

When  they  saw  that  I  was  actually  making  arrangements 
to  set  off  for  my  El  Dorado,  my  father  and  mother,  with  the 
utmost  consideration,  made  preparations  of  whatever  they 
thought  would  conduce  to  my  comfort  and  welfare.  They 
furnished  me  with  such  a  portion  of  the  property  as,  added 
to  my  education,  would  equal  me  with  what  my  father  sup- 
posed he  might  leave  the  other  children.  The  day  in  which 
I  lost  sight  of  the  paternal  roof  was  a  sad  one  to  me.  Who 


My  Native  Land.  II 

can  describe  the  tenderness  of  the  parting  tears  of  such  a 
mother  as  mine?  When  I  left  the  cheerful,  industrious 
and  happy  group,  knowing,  too,  that  they  considered  me  as 
one  forever  lost  to  them,  my  resolutions  would  have  given 
way,  had  not  my  established  character  of  sticking  to  my 
purpose  come  to  my  aid.  I  received  a  great  deal  of  excel- 
lent advice,  and  from  the  hands  of  my  father  a  Bible,  and 
earnest  counsel  to  make  good  use  of  it.  My  mother  and 
sisters  had  been  provident  in  furnishing  my  trunk  with  the 
comforts  necessary  for  a  traveler;  I  received  the  parting 
blessing  with  indescribable  emotion,  and  tore  myself  away. 


Robert  Gordon. 


CHAPTEE  II. 

NEAR  THE  DARK  RIVER. 

"Happy  the  man,  who  has  not  seen  the  smoke  ascending 
from  the  cottage  of  the  stranger." 

AT  [Boston  I  commenced  the  route  which  we  are  now 
traveling,  and  until  I  began  to  ascend  the  Alleghany  Moun- 
tains, I  did  not  feel  all  the  ties  of  kindred  and  country 
completely  severed.  I  could  connect,  by  the  chain  of  asso- 
ciation, points  that  were  distant,  if  they  were  but  in  the 
same  country,  and  inhabited  by  men  of  the  same  character 
and  pursuits.  But  when  such  a  wide  barrier  was  interposed 
between  me  and  "faderland";  when  I  began  to  descend 
among  a  people  of  a  different  character  and  foreign  pur- 
suits; then  I  began  to  experience  misgiving  of  mind,  and 
the  dismal  feeling  of  homesickness.  Then  the  image  of 
my  mother  visited  my  dreams,  and  it  was  a  dreary  feeling 
to  awake  and  find  that  the  visit  was  but  a  dream.  These 
feelings  were  not  at  all  alleviated  by  my  reception  at  the 
first  town  to  which  I  came  on  the  Ohio.  A  keelboat  was  on 
the  eve  of  starting  for  Alexandria,  on  Eed  Kiver.  I  took 
passage  in  it,  and  was  immediately  introduced  to  a  mode  of 
existence,  not  a  little  different  from  the  seclusion  and  medi- 
tation of  my  studies  at  the  university. 

The  degree  of  water  did  not  admit  the  descent  of  steam- 


Near  the  Dark  River.  13 

Duats.  In  fact,  there  were  but  few  on  these  waters  at  that 
time,  and  I  was  compelled  to  take  this  conveyance  or  wait 
the  rising  of  the  river.  At  first  the  novelty  of  this  way  of 
life,  the  freshness  of  the  scenery  on  this  beautiful  river, 
and  the  whimsical  character  of  the  boatmen  amused  me. 
Their  strange  curses,  it  is  true,  grated  on  my  ear.  It  was 
an  order  of  beings  as  different  from  any  with  whom  I  had 
yet  become  acquainted,  as  though  they  had  descended  from 
another  planet.  Their  dialect,  too,  made  up  of  equal  pro- 
portions of  a  peculiar  slang  and  profanity,  is  at  the  same 
time  both  ludicrous  and  appalling.  The  motto  of  this 
singular  race  is  well  known  to  be  'a  short  and  merry  life.' 
The  reckless  indifference  with  which  they  expose  them- 
selves in  places  of  danger,  the  damp  and  sultry  atmosphere, 
and  the  mosquitoes  at  night,  make  their  career  generally 
short,  and  their  death  sudden.  Their  discourse  with  each 
other,  like  their  dialect,  strangely  mixes  a  kind  of  coarse 
wit,  ridicule  and  impiety  together.  They  talk  of  death  with 
the  utmost  indifference,  and  generally  encounter  it  as  they 
talk  of  it.  A  thrill  of  horror  mixes  with  the  involuntary 
smile,  as  you  hear  the  strange  phrase  in  which  they  dis- 
cuss this  subject. 

We  had  much  fatigue,  encountered  many  dangers,  and 
there  were  many  quarrels  and  reconciliations  before  we 
reached  our  destination.  The  dark  water  of  the  river,  only 
ruffled  by  the  darting  of  huge  fishes,  the  foaming  path  of 
the  monster  alligator  or  a  thousand  little  silvery  fishes 
leaping  from  the  water  and  sparkling  like  diamonds;  the 
lazy  flight  of  ponderous  birds,  slowly  flapping  their  wings, 
and  sailing  along  just  over  the  surface  of  these  dark  waters ; 
a  soil  greasy  and  slippery  with  a  deposit  of  slime;  trees 
marked  fourteen  feet  high  by  an  overflow  of  -half  the  year ; 
gullies  several  feet  deep,  and  large  enough  to  be  the  outlet 
of  rivers,  covered  at  the  bottoms  with  decaying  logs,  and 


14  Robert  Gordon. 

connecting  the  river  with  hroad  sluggish  lakes,  too  thickly 
covered  with  a  coat  of  green  to  be  ruffled  by  the  winds  which 
can  scarcely  find  their  way  through  the  dense  forest ;  snakes, 
writhing  their  ugly  forms  at  the  bottom  of  these  gullies; 
such  was  the  scenery  that  met  my  eye  as  I  advanced  into 
the  region,  which  had  been  so  embellished  by  my  fancy. 
My  eyes,  ears,  and  nostrils  joined  to  admonish  that  here 
fever  had  erected  his  throne.  When  I  lay  down  at  night 
millions  of  mosquitoes  would  raise  their  dismal  hum  and 
settle  in  my  face.  Drive  away  the  first  thousand,  and 
another  thousand  was  ready  to  succeed,  and  'in  that  war 
there  was  no  discharge/  A  hundred  owls,  in  all  the  tones 
of  screaming,  hooting,  grunting,  in  every  note,  from 
the  wail  of  an  infant  to  the  growl  of  a  bear,  sang  our 
requiem.  Sleep  under  such  circumstances  is  little  better 
than  none. 

The  inhabitants  were  in  full  keeping  with  the  surround- 
ings. Their  complexion  was  yellowish,  or,  to  use  their 
phrase,  "tallow  faced."  To  shake  with  the  ague  was  their 
daily  occupation.  The  children  were  dirty,  ragged,  and  as 
mischievous  as  they  were  deformed.  They  rolled  upon  the 
slippery  clay  with  an  agility  and  alertness,  from  their  ap- 
pearance altogether  incredible,  for  you  would  suppose  them 
too  feeble  and  clumsy  to  move.  There  was  something 
unique  about  the  persons  of  both  the  old  and  young.  They 
laughed  and  shouted  and  drank  and  blasphemed,  and  ut- 
tered their  tale  of  obscenity,  or,  it  may  be  of  murder,  with 
bacchanalian  joyousness.  Shut  your  eyes  and  you  would 
suppose  that  you  were  in  the  merriest  group  in  the  world ; 
open  them  and  you  would  almost  believe  the  chilling  stories 
of  vampires. 

One  evening  while  we  were  laying  by,  not  far  from  the 
mouth  of  Bed  River,  on  the  verge  of  the  bank  above  us,  in 
a  little  opening  in  the  dead  forest,  was  a  family  such  as  I 


Near  the  Dark  River.  15 

have  described.    The  wife  and  mother  in  this  family  had 
once  been  pretty.    She  had  had  the  ague  for  years  in  suc- 
cession and  now  had  the  swelling,  filthiness,  brilliant  eye, 
flippant  tongue,  and  ran  on  from  istory  to  story  with  more 
than  the  garrulity  of  an  old  Frenchwoman.     She  informed 
me  that  for  a  month  in  the  preceding  spring  they  had  been 
overflowed  and  were  in  the  midst  of  a  flooded  swamp,  thirty 
miles  in  diameter.    They  built  a  house  on  a  raft  of  logs 
fastened  together,  and  secured  from  floating  away  with 
grapevines.     On  this  raft  was  stationed  the  family,  oxen, 
pigs,  and  a  barrel  of  whiskey  to  keep  up  their  spirits.     She 
took  me  for  a  cotton  planter,  and  said :    "Now,  you  planters 
have  but  one  house,  and  we  wood  cutters  have  two.     We 
have  our  floating  house  on  the  raft,  and  when  the  river  falls 
we  build  another  on  the  ground.    Look  you  there !    Only 
three  paces  from  my  door  used  to  lie  of  a  sunny  morning 
a  couple  of  thundering  alligators,  and  my  Franky  there," 
pointing  to  a  boy  who  seemed  to  be  about  four  years  old, 
and  as  ugly  an  urchin  as  you  would  wish  to  see,  "that 
there  boy  would  needs  be  playing  some  of  his  rusty  shines, 
and  so  he  crawled  out,  and  gave  one  of  them  a  rap  on  the 
snout  with  a  broomstick.     The  monster  devil  curled  his 
tail  and  gave  Franky  a  slap  which  tossed  him  in  the  air  like 
a  ball ;  and  the  beast  would  have  had  the  eating  of  Franky 
in  a  trice,  but  I  heard  him  scream  as  the  alligator  struck 
him.    I  seized  a  kettle  of  boiling  water  and  threw  it  on  the 
horrid  critter  just  as  he  showed  his  white  teeth  to  eat 
Franky,  and  this  drove  the  gentleman  into  the  water." 

The  well  remembered  song  of  my  infancy  rang  in  my 
ears: 

"No  more  shall  the  horn  call  me  out  in  the  morn," 

and  a  chill  as  of  death  came  over  me  when  I  thought  that 
this  was  the  reality  of  that  picture,  which,  to  my  imagina- 


1 6  Robert  Gordon. 

tion,  had  been  so  delightful.  I  felt,  too,  the  depth  and  ap- 
plication of  the  old  proverb,  "that  one-half  of  the  world 
does  not  know  how  the  other  half  lives."  The  comforting 
prediction  of  my  friends  rung  in  my  ears,  "In  that  savage 
country  you  will  lay  your  hones."  Certainly!  thought  I, 
the  assignment  of  your  hounds  must  be  the  sport  of  a  blind 
destiny.  There  are  hills  and  dales,  and  mountain  streams, 
and  beautiful  breezes,  and  cheerful  scenery,  and  millions 
of  unoccupied  acres  of  fertile  country,  where  the  means  of 
subsistence  even  are  at  least  as  easy  as  here.  How  have 
voluntary  agents,  with  the  power  of  locomotion,  fixed  them- 
selves here  from  choice  ?  The  boatmen  accounted  for  it  by 
saying  that  it  took  all  sorts  of  people  to  make  a  world. 

I  made  my  first  residence  in  these  regions,  and  my  first 
acquaintance  with  Southern  men,  manners,  and  things  at 
Alexandria.  It  may  be  supposed  that  I  studied  the  country 
and  people  with  an  intense  interest.  I  had  many  things  to 
learn,  and  many  things  to  unlearn,  to  prepare  me  for  this 
study.  I  was  at  once  aware  that  much  that  had  been  said 
of  the  country  abroad  was  founded  either  on  ignorance  or 
misrepresentation.  This  town  is  in  a  rich  cotton  planting 
country,  where  fortunes  have  been  very  rapidly  acquired. 
The  planters,  as  a  rule,  are  honorable  and  high  minded 
men.  They  are  all  in  the  highest  degree  hospitable.  Ac- 
quiring their  money  easily,  they  spend  it  with  reckless 
profusion.  I  was  invited  with  great  courtesy  to  their 
balls,  of  which  they  were  very  fond.  I  shared  their  amuse- 
ments, as  far  as  my  habits  of  life  would  allow  me,  and 
more  than  all  I  joined  them  in  their  hunting  parties, 
of  which  I  was  almost  as  fond  as  they  were.  Their  favorite 
chase,  and,  I  may  add,  mine,  too,  was  hunting  by  night. 

But  amidst  these  pleasures  and  sports,  an  evil  was 
impending  over  my  head,  one  of  the  terrible  things  wihich 
my  mother  had  most  often  rung  in  my  ears,  as  my  probable 


Near  the  Dark  River.  17 

lot  in  a  sickly  and  strange  land.  I  had  inhaled  enough 
of  the  miasma  to  give  me  the  fever  of  the  country.  I 
was  seized  so  suddenly  and  violently  as  to  become  uncon- 
scious for  some  time.  When  I  regained  consciousness  I 
found  myself  in  bed  surrounded  by  strange  faces,  and 
so  extremely  weak  as  to  be  unable  to  turn  myself.  The 
people  were  as  kind  to  me  as  I  had  any  right  to  expect. 
But  accustomed  to  see  many  cases  of  the  kind,  and  not 
used  to  making  much  discrimination,  consider  all  cases  as 
the  same  thing.  A  frightful  ringing  was  in  my  ears.  The 
continued  uproar  of  the  place  where  I  was  became  con- 
founded in  my  head  by  this  ringing,  the  effect  of  the 
disease.  From  the  united  influence  of  these  things  I  fell 
into  the  wildest  delirium.  Frightful  circles  of  light  glared 
before  my  eyes,  especially  at  night.  At  one  time  I  imagined 
myself  an  inhabitant  of  the  infernal  regions.  I  saw  the 
fiends  about  me,  heard  their  exultant  shouts,  and  felt 
them  pouring  baskets  of  burning  coals  upon  my  head. 
Then,  in  a  moment,  I  was  transported  to  the  churchyard, 
back  of  the  church  in  my  native  village,  and  saw  my 
friends  digging  my  grave.  Then  the  scene  would  shift 
and  become  a  little  more  pleasant.  I  would  .see  the 
beautiful  meadows  in  front  of  my  father's  house  and  my 
father  and  the  family  going  to  church  and  chiding  me 
for  lingering  behind.  In  those  paroxysms  one  thought 
was  always  uppermost,  that  I  was  away  from  home  and 
struggling  to  disengage  myself  from  something  that 
detained  me,  that  I  might  escape  and  get  home.  Unknown 
to  tihe  people  of  the  house  I  had  my  lucid  intervals,  in 
which  I  lay  in  a  state  of  infantine  weakness.  Sick  as 
I  was,  and  apparently  on  the  verge  of  death,  I  felt  a 
kind  of  strange  pleasure  in  hearing  them  discuss  the 
subject  of  my  death  and  burial.  If  any  one  wishes  to 
know  exactly  of  how  much  consequence  he  is  in  the  eyes 


1 8  Robert  Gordon. 

of  the  people,  who  have  no  concern  in  him,  and  no  motive 
to  induce  them  to  manifest  what  they  have  not,  lei  that 
person  be  sick  in  a  strange  place  and  hear  the  people  discuss 
his  case  with  all  the  recklessness  of  persons  who  think  they 
are  neither  heard  nor  understood.  We  would  then  discover 
that  there  are  many  people  in  the  world,  who  think  it 
would  get  along  very  well  without  us.  We  might  then 
have  striking  foretastes  of  how  little  they  would  disturb 
themselves  about  our  exit  after  we  are  actually  gone. 
There  were  other  times,  in  which  I  felt  keenly  and  bitterly 
the  dread  of  death,  the  unwillingness  to  "cross  the  dark 
river,"  and  an  earnest  desire  that  I  might  recover.  I 
have  reasons  to  think  that  I  received  great  and  uncommon 
attention;  for,  although  they  were  people  who  subsisted 
by  such  cases  as  mine,  they  appeared  to  take  great  care 
of  me.  I  lay  sick  a  long  time,  and  even  after  my  fever 
had  been  checked,  it  was  not  expected  for  many  days  that 
I  would  recover.  But,  as  it  happened,  the  event  disap- 
pointed all  their  calculations.  The  Author  of  my  being 
had  more  for  me  to  do  and  to  suffer  on  the  earth.  I 
regained  perfect  consciousness,  though  in  such  extreme 
weakness,  as  not  to  be  able  to  turn  myself  in  bed.  My 
first  feelings  were  those  of  devout  thankfulness.  My  first 
lucid  thoughts  expressed  themselves  in  a  question  from  the 
Bible,  "What  doest  thou  here,  Elijah?"  Why  had  I 
wandered  away  from  a  peaceful  and  religious  home,  and 
from  the  tender  and  endeared  relatives  to  a  place  like 
this  ?  The  anxiety,  the  tenderness,  the  maternal  nursing 
of  my  mother  in  a  fever,  which  I  had  had  at  home,  visited 
my  mind.  Oh!  I  thought  all  their  evil  omens  fell  far 
short  of  the  actual  state  of  things  which  I  had  experienced. 
1  earnestly  wished  that  all  those  who  had  the  wandering 
bump  in  their  skulls  could  know  what  I  did,  without 


Near  the  Dark  River.  19 

knowing  it  at  the  same  expense,  that  they  could  see  and 
comprehend  all  that  a  sick  and  unfriended  stranger  has 
to  hope  under  such  circumstances.  How  quietly  afterward 
they  would  set  themselves  down  to  any  honest  pursuit  that 
would  preclude  the  necessity  of  wandering. 


2O  Robert  Gordon. 


jHAPTER  III. 

AMONG  THE  COMANCHE  INDIANS. 

BUT  I  perceive  that  I  am  digressing,  and  drawing  too 
largely  on  your  patience.  About  the  time  I  regained  my 
strength  a  party  of  young  men  were  establishing  a  partner- 
ship to  travel  into  the  Spanish  country,  to  traffic  with 
the  Spaniards  and  Indians  for  mules,  horses  and  furs. 
Their  project  was  such  as  would  gratify  my  favorite  pro- 
pensity to  travel  into  that  region.  They  appeared  to  be 
young  men  of  standing,  and  had  the  appearance  and 
manners  of  gentlemen.  I  joined  them  as  a  partner.  There 
were  eight  of  us  in  all,  well  armed  and  equipped,  and 
furnished  with  as  much  merchandise  as  our  fund's  would 
allow  us  to  purchase.  They  laughed  heartily  at  one  part 
of  my  outfit,  which  was  a  small,  but  choice  collection  of 
books.  We  packed  our  merchandise,  provisions,  tents, 
ammunition,  etc.,  on  mules,  and  smarted  with  gay  hearts  to 
enter  tihe  Spanish  country  by  way  of  the  Arkansas. 

We  closed  our  arrangements  at  Natchitoehes,  the  last 
village  in  Louisiana  toward  the  Spanish  frontier.  On 
the  Kiamesia  we  passed  the  American  garrison,  and  saw 
the  cheering  sight  of  the  spirit-stirring  stars  and  stripes, 
waving  above  the  rude  fortress  and  the  comfortable  quar- 
ters, three  hundred  leagues  from  the  compact  population  of 
the  country.  We  admired  the  genius  of  a  country  yet  so 


21 

young,  and  which  had  thus  early  learned  to  stretch  her 
maternal  arms  to  these  remote  deserts  in  token  of  efficient 
protection  to  the  frontier  people  from  the  terrors  of  the 
ruthless  savages. 

It  was  not  far  from  this  garrison  that  my  eyes  dilated 
and  my  heart  expanded,  as  we  opened  upon  one  of  those 
boundless  grassy  plains  that  stretch  beyond  the  horizon, 
and  almost  beyond  imagination.  Such  a  view  presents  to 
me  the  image  of  infinitude  and  eternity  still  more  strongly 
/than  a  distant  view  of  the  ocean.  We  entered  with  the 
rising  sun.  One  part  of  tfhe  glorious  orb  seemed  to  touch 
the  verdure,  and  the  other  the  sky. 

On  these  level  plains  some  of  my  dreams  of  the  pleasure 
of  wandering  were  realized.  We  were  all  in  the  morning 
of  life,  full  of  health  and  spirits,  on  horseback  and 
breathing  a  most  salubrious  air,  with  a  boundless  horizon 
open  before  us,  and  shaping  our  fortune  and  success  in 
the  elastic  mould  of  youthful  hope  and  imagination,  we 
could  hardly  be  other  than  happy.  Sometimes  we  saw, 
scouring  from  our  path,  horses,  mules,  buffaloes  and 
wolves,  in  countless  numbers,  and  we  took  with  almost  too 
much  ease  to  give  pleasure  to  the  chase,  whatever  we 
needed  for  food.  The  course  of  streams  across  the  prairies 
is  marked  by  a  fringe  of  wood  and  countless  flowering 
shrubs. 

The  day  before  we  came  in  view  of  the  Eocky  Mountains 
I  saw  the  greatest,  and,  to  me,  almost  sublime  spectacle, 
an  immense  herd  of  wild  horses,  for  a  long  time  hovering 
around  our  path  across  the  prairie.  I  had  often  seen 
small  numbers  of  them  before,  but  here  there  were  thou- 
sands of  them.  Their  movements  seemed  to  be  almost  as 
rapid  as  the  wind.  At  one  time  they  were  in  our  front, 
then  almost  as  quick  as  thought,  they  were  seen  on  our 
flanks,  and  then  in  our  rear.  After  viewing  our  cavalcade 


22  Robert  Gordon. 

for  a  time,  they  took  to  their  heels  with  a  noise  like  that 
of  an  earthquake  and  in  a  few  seconds  were  all  out  of 
sight. 

It  was  in  the  opening  of  spring,  after  a  slow  and  easy 
journey  of  five  weeks  from  Natchitoches,  that  we  arrived 
in  sight  of  the  Eocky  Mountains  at  a  point  where  the 
Arkansas  finds  its  way  from  among  them  to  the  plains. 
No  time  will  erase  from  my  mind  the  impression  of  awe 
and  grandeur,  excited  by  the  distant  view  and  the  gradual 
approach  to  them.  The  plains  continue  quite  up  to  the 
point  where  the  mountains  seem  to  rise  out  of  the  earth 
almost  perpendicularly  for  several  thousand  feet.  With 
such  contrast,  and  from  such  a  pedestal,  rises  Pike's  Peak. 
His  blackening  sides  and  hoary  summit  are  a  kind  of 
seamark  at  an  immense  distance  over  the  plains.  He 
elevates  his  gigantic  head,  and  frowns  upon  the  sea  of 
verdure  below  him.  Solitary  and  detached  from  the 
hundred  mountains,  apparently  younger  members  of  tEe 
family  shrink  with  filial  awe  at  a  distance  from  him. 

At  the  foot  of  this  mountain  it  was  arranged  that  each 
one  of  us  should  proceed  to  a  different  point  among  the 
Indians,  to  purchase  horses  and  mules,  and  that  we  should 
reunite  at  Santa  Fe.  For  my  part,  I  now  began  to 
exercise  self-scrutiny,  and  to  feel  myself  disqualified  in 
every  -point  of  view  for  this  kind  of  traffic.  A  certain 
percentage  was  ultimately  to  be  awarded  me,  according 
to  the  profit  and  losses,  and  in  proportion  to  my  con- 
tribution to  the  common  stock.  As  I  frankly  confessed 
my  disinclination  to  the  active  labors  of  the  partnership, 
it  was  stipulated  tlhat  on  these  conditions  I  should  be 
a  silent  partner,  and  might  find  my  way  as  I  chose  to 
the  place  of  meeting,  and  at  an  assigned  time  in  Santa 
F6.  I  was  thus  left  at  liberty  to  gratify  my  curiosity 
in  my  own  way,  and  was  esteemed  a  kind  of  good  natured 


Among  the  Comanche  Indians.  23 

scholar,  with  my  head  turned  too  much  to  books  to  under- 
stand the  value  of  money,  or  to  enter  into  the  pleasure 
of  making  it.  One  of  the  company,  a  young  man  from 
New  York,  had  been  educated  to  a  considerable  degree, 
and  was,  in  other  respects,  a  man  of  different  order  of 
thought  and  manners  from  the  rest.  Between  him  and 
me  there  existed  a  kind  of  companionship.  He  under- 
stood a  smattering  of  French  and  enough  of  the  language 
of  the  Comanches  to  converse  with  them.  To  him  was 
assigned  a  central  village  of  the  Comanches  among  the 
mountains,  as  the  place  where  he  was  to  commence  his 
traffic.  He  represented  his  place  as  being  singularly 
romantic  and  beautiful,  for  he  had  been  there  before, 
and  the  Indians  as  the  most  noble  and  interesting  people 
of  all  that  region.  He  requested  me  to  accompany  him, 
holding  forth  all  the  usual  inducements  which  operate 
with  most  force  upon  such  adventures.  From  very  different 
motives  from  those  which  he  held  out,  I  consented  to 
follow  him. 

The  morning  after  our  arrival  at  the  mountains  we 
made  our  final  arrangements,  and  each  member  started 
for  his  assigned  place.  My  companion  and  myself  began 
to  scramble  up  the  rocky  and  precipitous  banks  of  the 
Arkansas,  and  made  our  way  toward  the  waters  of  the 
Eio  Grande.  We  were  often  obliged  to  dismount  and  lead 
our  horses  through  the  defiles,  and  we  found  great  difficulty 
in  getting  along,  although  we  were  on  the  track  by  which 
the  savages  come  down  to  the  plains.  We  came  to  the 
banks  of  a  torrent,  and  wound  along  a  path,  barely  wide 
enough  for  one  horse  to  pass,  with  perpendicular  points 
of  mountains  often  hanging  a  thousand  feet  above 
our  heads.  On  the  evening  of  the  third  day,  just  before 
sunset,  we  entered  a  long  and  very  narrow  gorge  between 
two  stupendous  elevations,  with  a  narrow  path  of  smooth 


24  Robert  Gordon. 

limestone,  washed  on  the  edge  by  the  foaming  waters  of 
the  torrent.  We  threaded  this  gorge  perhaps  two  miles, 
and  just  as  twilight  was  fading  we  entered  the  most  beau- 
tiful valley  that  I  had  ever  seen.  Dusky  as  it  was  in 
the  depths  of  the  valley,  the  last  rays  of  the  sun  still 
glittered  on  the  eternal  ices  of  the  summit  of  the  moun- 
tains. The  bells  of  horses  and  cattle  tinkled,  dogs  bayed 
and  children  hallooed.  A  compact  village  of  Indian 
cabins  dotted  the  opposite  extremity  of  the  valley.  The 
squaws  were  crossing  each  other's  paths,  carrying  water 
on  their  heads,  and  performing  the  other  kitchen  duties  in 
the  open  air.  Naked  boys  were  shooting  arrows  at  a 
mark,  and  the  men  were  smoking.  My  companion,  who 
knew  the  village,  walked  forward  with  the  confidence 
of  an  acquaintance.  He  approached  the  sentinels,  two 
of  whom  always  guarded  the  point  where  the  gorge  opened 
into  the  valley.  He  moved  with  a  firm  step  and  a  fearless 
countenance,  and  offered  his  hand.  They  gave  a  sharp 
cry  of  recognition,  followed  by  a  gentle  grunt  and  a  cordial 
shake  of  the  hand  A  phrase  introduced  me  to  them, 
and  I,  too,  received  my  shake  of  the  hand.  One  of  them 
went  with  us  to  introduce  us  to  the  village.  The  chiefs 
and  warriors  thronged  around  us.  My  companion  ex- 
plained our  object  in  this  visit.  As  far  as  I  could  judge 
our  reception  was  cordial,  and  we  were  welcome.  A  vacant 
cabin,  fitted  up  with  Indian  magnificence,  and  its  floor 
spread  with  skins,  was  assigned  us.  There  seemed  to  be 
almost  a  contest  among  them,  who  should  be  the  first 
to  entertain  us. 

I  arose  early  the  next  morning  to  make  a  circuit  of 
this  lovely  valley.  At  the  extremity  of  the  village  a  torrent 
poured  down  from  a  prodigious  elevation,  which  seemed 
a  sheet  suspended  in  the  air.  It  falls  into  a  circular 
basin,  paved  with  blue  limestone  of  some  rods  in  diameter. 


Among  the  Comanche  Indians.  25 

The  dash  near  at  hand  has  a  startling  effect,  but  at  a 
little  distance,  it  is  just  the  murmur  to  inspire  repose,  and 
it  spreads  a  delicious  coolness  all  around  the  place.  Its 
banks  are  fringed  with  pawpaw,  persimmon  and  catalpa 
shrubs  and  trees,  interlaced  with  vines,  under  which  the 
green  carpet  is  rendered  gay  with  flowers  of  every  scent 
and  hue.  The  coolness  of  the  vale  and  the  shade,  together 
with  the  irrigation  of  the  stream,  covers  the  whole  valley 
with  verdure.  The  beautiful  red  bird  with  his  crimson 
tufted  crest,  the  nightingale  pouring  forth  a  continuous 
stream  of  sound,  and  the  mocking-bird,  the  buffoon  of 
songsters,  parodying  the  songs  of  all  the  rest,  had 
commenced  their  morning  voluntary.  The  sun,  which 
had  burnished  all  the  tops  of  the  mountains  with  gold, 
and  here  and  there  had  glistened  on  banks  of  snow  for 
some  time,  would  not  shine  in  the  valley  until  he  'had 
almost  reached  his  meridian  height.  The  natives,  fleet 
as  the  deer  when  on  an  expedition  abroad,  and  at  home 
lazy  and  yawning,  were  just  issuing  from  their  cabins,  and 
stretching  their  limbs  in  the  cool  morning  air.  The 
smoke  of  the  cabin  fires  had  just  begun  to  undulate  and 
whiten  in  horizontal  pillows  athwart  the  valley.  The 
distant  roar  of  the  cascade  seemed  to  mingle  and 
harmonize  all  other  sounds  in  the  valley.  It  was  a 
charming  assemblage  of  strong  contrasts,  rocky  and 
inaccessible  mountains,  the  deep  and  incessant  roar 
of  the  cascade,  a  valley  that  seemed  to  sleep  between 
these  impregnable  ramparts  of  nature,  a  little  region  of 
landscape  surrounded  by  black  and  ragged  cliffs,  on 
every  side  dotted  thick  with  brilliant  and  beautiful  vege- 
tation, and  fragrant  with  hundreds  of  plants  in  full  bloom ; 
in  the  midst  of  a  lazy,  simple  and  indescribable  people, 
whose  forefathers  had  been  born  and  died  here  for  un- 
counted generations;  a  people,  who  could  have  recorded 


26  Robert  Gordon. 

wars,  loves  and  all  the  changes  of  fortune,  if  they  had  had 
their  historians.  Such  was  this  valley  of  the  Comanches. 
There  are  places  where  I  am  at  home  at  once  wiith 
nature,  and  where  she  seems  to  take  me  to  her  bosom  with 
all  the  fondness  of  a  motfher.  I  forget  that  I  am  a 
stranger  in  a  strange  land;  and  this  was  one  of  those 
places. 

"Here  would  I  live,  unnoticed  and  unknown, 

'Here  unlamented  would  I  die; 
*Steal  from  the  world,  and  not  a  stone 
'Tell  where  I  lie." 

Having  sauntered  about  in  different  parts  of  the  valley 
for  an  hour,  one  spot  struck  me  as  peculiarly  inviting  to 
meditation,  study  and  repose.  It  was  a  peninsula  made 
by  a  bend  in  the  stream,  which  almost  curved  back  upon 
its  own  course,  leaving  an  entrance  scarcely  three  paces 
across,  and  the  islet  included  an  area  of  several  rods. 
Even  the  Indians  had  a  taste  for  the  pleasantness  of  this 
place,  for  their  devious  paths  had  chequered  out  walks 
in  the  living  turf.  Even  the  Indian  girls  felt  that  here 
was  the  place  to  own  their  "dusky  lovers."  Weeping  wil- 
lows and  magnolias  rendered  it  a  perfect  alcove.  Here, 
thought  I,  shall  be  my  study,  while  I  reside  in  this  sweet 
place.  When  I  cast  my  eye  around  I  applauded  that  fore- 
cast, which  had  drawn  so  much  ridicule  from  my  compan- 
ions, in  having  brought  with  me  my  books. 

After  breakfast  a  council  fire  was  kindled  in  the  public 
wigwam.  The  council  chiefs,  the  warriors,  tJhe  women  and 
the  children  assembled  around  the  council  fire  to  welcome 
us  to  the  village  with  the  customary  solemnities.  The 
calumet  went  round.  The  savages  all  smoked,  and  gave 
it  to  us  to  smoke.  A  speech  of  welcome  to  us,  and  of 


Among  the  Comanche  Indians.  27 

invitation  to  our  partners  to  visit  them  was  uttered  lay 
the  most  aged  council  chief.  The  elocution  was  strong, 
significant,  and  emphatic ;  and  at  the  close  of  each  sentence 
the  interpreter,  a  half-blood  Frenchman,  translated  it  into 
French,  a  language  which  we  both  understood.  I  felt 
thankful  that,  among  other  useful  acquirements  at  college, 
I  had  mastered  this  language.  I  entered  into  this  speech 
with  intense  interest,  for  I  had  heard  much  of  Indian 
eloquence.  In  the  name  of  the  tribe  the  usual  promises 
of  hospitality  and  protection  were  promised;  in  return  we 
were  to  furnish  them  with  a  suitable  portion  of  beads, 
knives,  looking  glasses  and  vermilion.  On  these  terms 
I  was  to  be  considered  as  under  the  special  protection  of 
the  tribe  for  two  months,  and  my  companion  was  to  have 
every  facility  for  purchasing  and  noosing  horses  and  mules. 

The  council  terminated  with  a  religious  ceremony,  the 
chief  actor  being  an  old,  tall,  meager  savage.  His  eyes 
sunk,  bald  headed  except  a  small  lock  of  dirty  gray  hair 
on  the  top  of  his  head.  He  was  the  priest,  physician  and 
conjuror  of  the  tribe.  It  was  understood  that  we  were 
to  pay  for  his  prayer  in  whiskey  and  tobacco. 

Then  came  the  dancing,  after  which  it  was  understood 
that  we  were  medicined,  charmed  or  under  the  pledged 
protection  of  the  household  divinities. 

The  tribe  of  Comanches,  of  which  this  was  the  chief 
town,  inhabited  the  valleys  at  the  sources  of  the  Eed, 
Arkansas,  and  the  Eio  Grande  rivers,  which  all  rise  near 
each  other.  These  were  their  winter  and  permanent  head- 
quarters. In  the  summer  they  encamped  and  hunted  the 
buffalo  and  other  game,  on  the  adjacent  plains.  To 
diversify  their  mode  of  life  a  little,  they  often  made 
incursions  into  New  Spain,  sometimes  for  a  kind  of  forced 
traffic  in  horses,  mules,  and  pelts,  but  much  oftener  with 
the  avowed  purpose  of  war  and  plunder.  They  kept  up 


28  Robert  Gordon. 

in  this  way  a  kind  of  border  warfare  with  the  Spaniards, 
sometimes  practicing  open  hostilities,  but  generally  main- 
taining a  kind  of  armed  neutrality,  throwing  their  weight 
into  the  scale  of  the  Apaches,  a  neighboring  tribe  of 
savages,  with  whom  the  Spaniards  maintained  a  continual 
war,  or  of  the  Spaniards  themselves,  as  their  interest,  their 
policy,  or  their  ambition  dictated.  Their  present  relation 
with  the  Spaniards  was  a  kind  of  hollow  truce,  which 
had  not,  however,  prevented  a  recent  excursion  to  Santa 
Fe  with  a  select  force  of  young  warriors,  in  which  they 
had  brought  off  rich  plunder,  a  number  of  captives  of 
the  lower  order,  and  with  them  the  only  daughter  of 
Conde  Olmedo,  Governor  of  Durango,  and  Superintendent 
General  of  the  Mexican  mines.  A  deputation  from  th§ 
tribe  was  now  at  Santa  Fe  to  treat  witih  the  governor 
for  the  ransom  of  his  daughter,  which  they  put  at  an 
exorbitant  sum  of  money,  proportioned  to  the  vast  wealth 
of  the  father,  and  the  known  affection  of  his  daughter. 
This  circumstance  showed  more  than  any  other,  that 
they  held  the  Spaniards  at  entire  defiance.  Circumstances, 
which  will  explain  themselves  as  I  proceed,  will  show  why 
they  felt  such  a  peculiar  confidence  at  this  point  of  time. 
The  governor,  with  all  his  resources,  power  and  thousands 
of  tenants,  appeared  to  think  of  no  other  way  of  regaining 
his  daughter  but  by  a  ransom.  The  savages  spoke  of 
her  with  a  kind  of  mysterious  reverence,  remarking  that 
she  was  never  seen  abroad,  sometimes  designating  her  with 
the  sacred  name  of  "medicine,"  and  at  other  times  by  the 
name  of  a  flower,  which  is  the  garnish  of  Indian  figure 
for  whatever  they  deem  most  beautiful.  This  valley,  which 
contained  the  chief  town  and  the  central  position  of  the 
tribe,  evinced  no  little  wisdom  in  those  who  selected  it 
as  a  place  of  residence.  The  fortifications  of  Gibraltar 
are  works  of  mere  gingerbread  compared  with  these  inac- 


Among  the  Comanche  Indians.  29 

cessible  and  everlasting  battlements  of  nature.  A  gorge, 
or  defile,  of  two  miles  in  length,  just  wide  enough  to 
admit  a  single  horse,  and  walled  in  by  overhanging  moun- 
tains of  slate  and  granite,  barred  all  approach,  except 
of  a  single  person  at  a  time.  A  cabin,  constructed  rudely, 
but  with  great  strength  of  massive  rocks,  and  inhabited 
by  select  warriors,  the  most  trustworthy  of  the  tribe,  was 
built  at  the  point  where  the  gorge  opens  into  the  valley, 
and  every  one  who  entered  must  pass  through  this  cabin 
and  by  these  warriors.  So  situated  and  so  guarded  it  might 
be  considered,  as  they  considered  it,  impregnable  to  any 
force  which,  in  the  present  fermenting  and  distracted  state 
of  the  Spanish  provinces,  they  could  bring  against  it. 

The  Comanches  bear  a  general  resemblance  to  the  rest 
of  the  North  American  Indians.  Inhabiting  a  healthful 
and  temperate  climate,  living  in  constant  abundance  from 
their  inexhaustible  supplies  of  game,  and  having  vast 
herds  of  cattle,  horses  and  mules,  and  constantly  exercising 
in  the  open  air,  they  attain  the  most  perfect  development 
of  the  human  form.  They  are  of  fine  person,  large,  mus- 
cular and  athletic.  They  are  courageous,  fierce  and 
independent,  knowing  no  law  but  their  own  proud  wills. 
I  saw  manifest  proof  of  their  having  put  the  Spaniards 
under  frequent  and  heavy  contributions.  For,  besides  that 
their  trade  with  the  Americans  supplied  them  with  rifles 
and  yagers,  they  had  levied  from  the  Spaniards  carbines, 
powder  and  lead;  and  quantities  of  bullion,  silver,  gold 
and  massive  plate  appeared  in  the  cabins  of  the  principal 
war  chiefs.  There  were  also  cumbrous  articles  of  mahog- 
any furniture,  splendid  dresses  and  trappings,  and  crosses 
of  gold,  decked  with  gems,  among  them.  The  Creole  cap- 
tives from  the  Spaniards  were  retained  as  slaves.  Some  of 
them  were  intermarried  among  the  savages,  and  there  were 
a  number  of  children  of  this  mixed  race.  I  had  every 


3<D  Robert  Gordon. 

chance  to  study  this  singular  people,  for  my  companion 
was  so  constantly  and  laboriously  employed  in  collecting 
horses,  mules,  pelts  and  silver,  that  he  left  me  continually 
alone  among  a  people  of  whose  language  I  knew  not  a 
word. 


The  Captive. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE  CAPTIVE. 

THE  stranger's  cabin,  which  I  occupied,  was  superin- 
tended by  Osuna,  a  young,  stout,  finely  formed  squaw. 
She  was  active,  assiduous  and  shrewd.  She  knew  every- 
thing that  was  passing  in  the  village,  especially  as  regarded 
the  younger  members  of  it.  From  advancement  which  I 
made  in  her  good  graces,  I  drew  presages  of  havoc  which 
I  was  afterward  to  make  among  the  hearts  in  this  region. 
She  was,  of  course,  often  with  me.  She  delighted  to  teach 
me  her  language,  and  she  made  at  least  as  rapid  progress 
in  learning  mine.  It  was  some  time  before  my  vanity  had 
made  the  discovery  that  I  was  subduing  the  heart  of  this 
fierce  damsel.  I  was  at  first  rather  astonished  at  the 
assiduity  with  which  she  waited  on  me,  and  the  rapidity 
with  which  she  mastered  words  and  sentences  in  my 
language.  She  did  not  long  leave  me  in  doubt  about  the 
real  motive  of  her  diligence.  It  became  palpable  to  me, 
and,  notwithstanding  she  practiced  some  awkward  attempts 
at  concealment,  to  all  the  tribe  that  she  viewed  me  with 
eyes  of  partiality.  I  soon  found  myself  involved  in  a 
difficulty  from  this  quarter.  If  I  could  manage  this 
regard  without  either  affront  or  too  much  encouragement 
it  would  assure  me  attention,  an  excellent  teacher  and 
the  most  accurate  intelligence.  If  I  affronted  her  with 


3*  Robert  Gordon. 

a  direct  rejection  of  her  kindnesses  I  would  secure  her  ever- 
lasting ill  will.  She  was  the  daughter  of  the  second  council 
chief,  and  of  so  much  importance  as  to  have  recently  been 
on  the  brink  of  marriage  with  Watook,  the  young,  fierce,  and 
principal  war  chief,  who  annulled  the  engagement  without 
assigning  any  reason.  It  was  clear  that  she  entertained 
deadly  revenge  toward  him,  and  no  little  jealousy  for  the 
young  and  beautiful  Spanish  captive  in  his  keeping.  She 
attributing  the  breaking  off  of  her  marriage  with  Watook 
to  his  growing  love  for  his  fair  charge,  and  had  no  back- 
wardness to  do  an  ill  office  for  both,  if  occasion  offered. 

I  saw  at  once  that  it  would  require  no  little  management 
to  preserve  the  right  medium  in  my  intercourse  with  this 
tender  virago,  so  as  to  commit  myself  to  no  party.  It 
was  but  a  few  days  before  this  apt  pupil  and  myself  had 
enough  words  in  common  in  our  two  languages,  in  which 
to  make  me  acquainted  with  many  of  the  secrets  and 
interior  history  of  the  tribe.  I  began  with  much  caution 
to  hint  some  curiosity  about  the  Spanish  captive,  for 
whom  I  began  to  feel  an  interest.  However  indirectly  I 
approached  that  subject,  Osuna  would  instantly  prove  that 
she  was  a  lineal  descendant  from  Eve.  She  drew  up  at 
once,  manifested  temper,  and  only  let  me  know  that  this 
proud  daughter  of  the  white  people  was  a  "medicine," 
and  then  was  sullenly  silent  upon  the  subject. 

In  other  respects  I  was  delighted  with  my  abode.  I 
botanized,  read,  walked  and  inhaled  the  ambrosial  atmos- 
phere, and  studied  the  natives.  I  spent  the  greater  part 
of  every  day  in  the  cool  peninsula  under  the  shade  of 
the  catalpas.  Here  were  my  books,  and  material  for  writing 
and  drawing.  I  had  erected  a  sod  seat,  and  rude  shelves 
and  a  table,  and  gave  in  to  my  dreaming  existence  in  ample 
style.  I  made  daily  progress  in  becoming  acquainted  with 
the  people,  and  my  way  of  amusing  myself,  so  entirely 


The  Captive.  33 

different  from  theirs,  seemed  rather  to  render  me  an  object 
of  curiosity  and  to  propitiate  their  good  will.  The  only 
unpleasant  circumstances  of  my  condition  were  the  inability 
to  learn  anything  about  the  captive,  who  dwelt  within 
a  hundred  paces  of  me,  except  enough  to  stimulate  a 
vexatious  curiosity.  The  captive  was  retained  in  studied 
seclusion  in  the  cabin  of  the  mother  of  Watook,  and  was 
seen  by  no  other  man,  and  by  him  only  by  day  and  in 
the  presence  of  his  mother.  I  was  sufficiently  warned  that 
for  me  to  attempt  to  enter  that  cabin  would  have  given 
mortal  offence.  Apart  from  the  restraint  which  savage 
customs  generally  impose  upon  intercourse  with  women, 
the  high  rank,  and  probably  the  personal  beauty,  and, 
more  than  all,  the  exorbitant  ransom  demanded  for  her, 
dictated  this  mystery  and  forbearance  in  relation  to  this 
captive. 

In  this  way  elapsed  my  first  week,  and  I  was  beginning 
to  feel  myself  domesticated  in  the  valley.  On  the  seventh 
morning  of  my  residence  there  I  repaired  to  my  accustomed 
haunt,  and  was  both  surprised  and  delighted  to  see  it  occu- 
pied by  a  young  and  beautiful  lady.  The  first  glance 

showed  me  that  here  all  my  fairy  dreams  were  out;  and1 
all  my  imaginations  of  the  beau  ideal  were  here  actually 
before  me.  To  exempt  me  from  the  charge  of  enthusiasm 
and  extravagance,  it  will  be  only  necessary  to  consider  the 
circumstances  of  this  meeting.  An  ordinary  young 
woman,  so  situated,  would  probably  have  seemed  an  ap- 
proach toward  angelic  beauty  and  excellence.  I  had  seen 
all  women  in  my  own  country  with  equal  indifference,  but 
one.  That  was  the  youngest  daughter  of  our  minister.  I 
confess  that  her  black  eyes,  ruddy  cheeks  and  curling  locks 
had  given  me  a  few  transient  pangs,  which  I  passed  off 
at  the  time  as  attacks  of  heartburn,  and  for  which  chalk 
and  magnesia  are  prescribed.  Judge,  then,  what  passed 


34  Robert  Gordon. 

within  me  when  I  saw  my  seat  occupied  by  a  vision,  as 
fair  as  the  poet's  dream;  a  very  young  lady,  whom  my 
imagination  had  pictured  as  disheveled,  subdued,  the  image 
of  terror  and  despair,  sitting  rather  stately  and  erect,  with 
buoyant  hope  and  spirit  in  her  eye,  and  self-estimation 
and  command  impressed  upon  her  whole  person.  I  am 
naturally  awkward  at  description  of  this  sort,  but  I  will 
attempt  to  convey  some  idea  of  my  first  impression.  She 
seemed  not  more  than  sixteen,  but  tall,  finely  formed,  with 
an  Italian  face,  an  almost  imperceptible  shade  of  olive 
softening  the  glow  of  health  and  freshness  in  her  cheek; 
eyes  of  that  black  and  lustrous  brilliancy  that  so  struck 
Lord  Byron,  as  the  peculiar  trait  of  a  fine  Spanish  woman. 

Eaven  locks  curled  luxuriantly  upon  a  head  moulded  in 
the  finest  form  for  intelligence.  The  effect  of  her  condition 
seemed  to  have  produced  a  cast  of  melancholy,  with 
which  native  dignity  and  youthful  vivacity  maintained  A 
constant  struggle.  Her  costume  was,  according  to  my 
impressions  from  reading,  European  Spanish — the  most 
striking  part  of  it  a  velvet  mantilla,  with  a  belt  sparkling 
with  gems — and  for  the  rest  it  appeared  a  riding  dress; 
the  whole  wearing  an  air  of  splendor  and  fete  unac- 
countable in  her  condition  upon  any  other  supposition 
than,  what  I  afterward  learned  was  the  fact,  that  it  was 
the  very  dress  in  which  she  was  taken  on  horseback  and 
conveyed  here  as  a  prisoner. 

So  complete  was  the  screen  of  verdure  in  my  alcove  that 
I  was  within  four  paces  of  her  before  I  saw  that  my  seat 
was  occupied.  Astonishment  arrested  my  steps,  and  I  must 
have  looked  particularly  foolish.  I  bowed  low;  my  cheeks 
burned,  and  I  was  awkwardly  retiring.  She  partly  arose, 
slightly  inclined  her  head,  and,  in  a  manner  in  which 
native  pride  and  confusion  contended,  asked  me  in  French, 
"Pourquoi  f uyiez-vous  ?"  I  turned,  and  stammered  some- 


The  Captive.  35 

thing  in  the  same  language  about  my  unwillingness  to 
interrupt  or  disturb  her.  "But,"  she  answered,  "you  do 
not  interrupt  me.  I  came  here  expressly  to  meet  you. 
Stranger!  I  have  but  a  moment  with  you.  The  rules  of 
my  captivity  and  the  cruel  circumstance  of  my  confinement 
allow  me  very  seldom  to  go  abroad.  This  is  one  of  the 
times  allowed.  It  is  precious,  and  I  must  make  the  most 
of  it.  I  have  done  you  the  justice  to  suppose  that  you 
could  enter  into  my  situation,  and  that  you  would  at 
once  comprehend  that  it  excludes  observance  and  forms 
of  society,  which  should  be  so  inviolable  under  other  cir- 
cumstances. Your  honor  and  your  pity  will  alike  prevent 
you  from  thinking  me  forward,  or  acting  unworthily,  when 
I  tell  you  I  have  inquired  about  you  and  sought  this  meet- 
ing. Your  companion  is  generally  away,  and  you  are  the 
only  being  in  this  valley  to  whom  I  could  have  a  thought 
of  appealing  under  my  deplorable  circumstances,  for  pro- 
tection. Upon  inquiry  of  Osuna  about  you,  I  made  so 
much  from  her  information  as  to  assure  myself  that  you 
were  not  a  man  of  the  rough  and  common  mould.  I  am 
an  unhappy  captive,  torn  from  a  father  and  mother  inex- 
pressibly dear,  and  who  have  no  other  child.  I  had  been 
on  an  invited  party  to  the  house  of  a  friend  of  my  father, 
who  resides  two  leagues  from  Santa  Fe.  I  was  returning 
in  the  evening  in  the  midst  of  my  servants.  In  a  moment 
we  were  surrounded  by  these  ruthless  savages.  A  few 
shots  were  fired  upon  us,  and  my  servants  and  the  gentle- 
man who  accompanied  me  dispersed  in  different  directions. 
They  seized  the  bridle  of  my  horse  and  surrounded  me 
with  their  warriors.  Eesistance  and  cries  were  equally 
unavailing.  They  brought  me  to  this  valley.  I  have 
been  confined  in  this  prison  six  weeks,  which,  under  other 
circumstances,  would  have  been  so  delightful.  The  chief, 
who  headed  the  party  that  took  me,  is  called  Watook. 


36  Robert  Gordon. 

The  tribe  understand  the  value  of  their  prize.  They 
placed  me  under  the  protection  of  his  mother,  and  I  have 
been  treated  with  consideration.  A  few  days  since  I  made 
an  effort  to  escape,  was  apprehended  and  brought  back. 
Since  that  the  visits  of  Watook  have  been  more  frequent 
and  his  manner  has  been  less  restrained.  There  is  some- 
thing terrible  to  me  in  his  regards  and  his  whole  deport- 
ment. Think,  sir,  that  this  fierce  and  horrible  being 
expresses  to  me,  in  his  way,  that  he  loves  me."  As  she 
said  this  she  crossed  herself,  half  kneeled  and  looked 
toward  the  sky  for  a  few  moments,  seemingly  engaged 
in  intense  devotion.  Her  flashing  eyes  were  dimmed  with 
tears.  She  slowly  regained  her  composure,  and  resumed 
as  follows:  "Mjy  only  comfort  now  is  that  you  are  here 
and  that  this  dreaded  being  is  absent.  He  went  with  a 
deputation  from  the  tribe  to  Santa  Fe  to  treat  with  my 
father  concerning  my  ransom.  The  deputation  should 
have  arrived  two  days  since.  I  should  have  trusted  to  this 
mode  of  deliverance,  and  should  not  have  troubled  you 
with  my  story;  but,  from  the  frequent  visits  of  Watook 
before  he  started,  from  his  mother,  my  keeper,  and,  more 
than  all,  from  Osuna,  I  gather  that  something  secret  and 
terrible  is  about  to  befall  me.  Sleep  flies  from  me.  I 
sit  at  the  little  opening  in  the  place  where  I  sleep  and 
strain  my  vision  in  the  direction  in  which  the  deputation 
should  arrive.  And  yet  I  have  a  horrible  presentiment 
that  if  it  should  arrive  with  the  price  of  my  ransom  I 
am  not  to  be  liberated.  Dear,  dear  parents!  Pitying 
mother  of  Jesus !  And  you,  kind  stranger,  aid  me  in  this 
extreme  distress."  A  burst  of  irrepressible  grief  here  cut 
short  her  communication  for  some  time. 

After  this  pause  she  seemed  to  struggle  for  composure, 
as  she  brushed  away  the  fresh  starting  tears.  "Stranger! 
you  are  of  our  race.  You  are  instructed  and  must  be  a 


The  Captive.  37 

man  of  humanity.  Surely  my  confidence  in  you  cannot 
be  misplaced.  Should  it  appear,  after  the  arrival  of  the 
deputation,  that  I  am  not  to  be  set  at  liberty,  or  in  any 
event,  if  I  am  to  be  persecuted  by  that  being,  I  put  every- 
thing dear  into  your  hands,  and  appeal  to  you  to  aid 
me  to  escape  to  my  parents.  Whatever  motives  d!etain 
one  of  your  pursuits  in  this  place,  they  could  not  but 
operate  to  induce  you  to  such  an  act  of  honor  and 
humanity ;  and  there  is  nothing  of  reward  or  gratitude  that 
such  an  act  would  not  claim  from  my  parents." 

She  paused,  as  if  for  my  reply.  You  cannot  doubt 
what  reply  I  would  have  made  to  any  woman  under  such 
circumstances.  Add  that  this  was  the  very  scene  for  the 
visions  of  romance,  and  that  this  lovely  girl,  in  such 
extreme  distress,  seemed  more  interesting,  the  more 
closely  I  considered  her;  that  she  threw  herself  with 
a  simple  and  dignified  confidence,  which  circumstances 
seemed  so  well  to  justify,  upon  my  honor  and  protection ; 
that  I  would  have  been  stupid  and  unfeeling  not  to  have 
been  ample  in  protestations  of  aid  and  protection  to  the 
utmost  extent  of  my  power.  I  have  a  surmise  that  I  was 
rather  eager  and  eloquent  in  advancing  these  pledges; 
for,  as  I  made  them,  a  transient  blush  succeeded  to  the 
paleness  of  iher  previous  distress. 

There  was  earnestness  and  sweetness  in  her  mode  of 
thanking  me.  "And  now,"  she  continued,  "to  the  manner 
of  aiding  me,  I  take  you  at  your  word.  You  will  place 
it  to  anxiety  about  inventing  the  means  of  this  escape, 
that  I  have  learned  that  Osuna,  so  influential  among 
the  young  warriors,  loves  you;  and  we  are  both  pursued 
by  these  savage  fires.  I  will  not  trifle  with  you  by  sup- 
posing that  such  a  regard  from  such  a  person  could  have 
any  influence  with  you.  She,  in  her  turn,  is  beloved  by 
the  warrior  who  commands  the  entrance  to  the  valley 


38  Robert  Gordon. 

and  who  arrested  me  in  my  attempt  to  escape.  You 
will  easily  account  for  the  interest  with  which  I  have 
studied  into  this  .secret  history.  Calculate  and  manage 
rightly  and  your  influence  upon  these  two  persons  will 
furnish  me  the  means  of  escape.  Through  the  warrior 
the  egress  from  this  valley  may  be  left  unguarded.  Through 
Osuna  this  may  be  obtained  of  him,  and  horses  may  be 
in  readiness,  and  we  may  fly,  I  from  a  condition  worse 
than  death,  and  to  a  family  of  which  I  am  the  only  hope ; 
and  you,  to  a  compensation  exceeding  my  ransom,  if 
wealth  be  your  object  here;  and,  if  I  have  rightly  inter- 
preted your  character,  to  the  applause  of  your  own  heart, 
a  still  higher  compensation." 

You  may  be  sure  that  I  disavowed  mercenary  views, 
for,  in  fact,  I  had  none.  Motives  of  another  sort  thrilled 
through  me  and  I  was  again  voluble,  if  not  eloquent, 
even  in  French.  Having  exhausted  all  I  had  to  say  in 
the  way  of  promise,  I  entreated  that  she  would  so  far 
confide  in  me  as  to  meet  me  often,  until  the  means  of 
escape  could  be  devised.  To  this  she  replied :  "That  nothing 
but  the  emergency  of  the  case  would  have  justified 
advances  like  the  present.  Future  interviews  could  not 
further  the  means  of  escape.  Were  they  proper  in  them- 
selves they  would  be  observed  and  excite  jealousy,  and 
retard  the  object  in  view."  She  earnestly  requested  me  to 
think  of  her  case  with  compassion,  and  that  if  any  chance 
offered  to  aid  her,  Osuna  would  inform  her;  for,  that 
she  suspected  that  Osuna  was  jealous  of  her  supposed 
influence  with  Watook,  her  former  lover,  and  that  very 
circumstance,  she  hoped,  would  induce  her  to  communicate 
any  intelligence,  or  aid  any  plan,  that  might  facilitate 
her  escape.  "But,  you  see,  stranger,  that  I  can  have  no 
object  in  future  interviews,  except  so  far  as  they  might 
aid  in  our  escape.  They  would  be  useless  to  you  and 


The  Captive.  39 

unbecoming  to  me.  Remember  me.  All  is  confided  in 
your  prudence/'  Saying  this  she  arose  and  retired. 

I  had  matter  enough  now  for  thought,  and  no  further 
need  of  an  imaginary  Laura.  One  simple  thought  took 
possession  of  my  mind,  and  that  was  to  devise  ways  and 
means  by  which  this  interesting  captive  might  fly  from  her 
captors. 

In-  the  evening  I  had  an  interview  of  a  very  different 
character  and  interest.  Osuna  lingered  after  supper,  and 
I  saw  clearly  that  I  must  prepare  myself  for  an  explana- 
tion. In  fact  she  let  me  know,  without  circumlocution,  that 
the  honor  that  she  intended  me  was  nothing  more  than  to 
offer  me  all  her  wealth,  consisting  of  a  large  quantity 
of  vermilion,  a  complete  assortment  of  Indian  finery,  a 
rifle,  yager,  dogs,  mules,  horses,  cows  and  silver;  and  all 
this  only  with  the  incumbrance  of  a  fine  athletic  squaw, 
with  broad  copper  colored  cheeks,  painted  as  red  as  ver- 
milion could  make  them.  She  gave  me  to  understand  that 
her  husband  would  be  entitled  to  the  same  rank  as  her 
father.  Her  offer  was  in  English,  and  was  a  curiosity 
of  its  kind,  and  ran  nearly  in  this  form :  "You  silly.  You 
weak.  You  baby  hands.  No  catch  horse.  No  kill  buffalo. 
No  good,  but  for  sit  still  read  book.  Never  mind.  Me 
like.  Me  make  rich  Me  make  big  man.  Me  your  squaw." 
The  caution  of  the  fair  captive,  to  turn  the  affection  of 
this  tender  heroine  to  account  struck  me  with  force.  I 
knew  too  little  of  the  workings  of  the  savage  heart  to 
judge  exactly  the  medium  I  ought  to  pursue.  I  made  up 
my  reply,  however,  on  the  presumption  of  her  descent 
from  our  common  mother,  and  said  every  civil  thing  that 
I  could,  particularly  thanking  her  for  her  good  opinion 
of  me  and  my  unworthiness  of  isuch  a  prize.  I  begged 
her  to  wait  on  me  until  I  should  have  learned  something 
more  of  their  ways,  and  render  myself  more  worthy  of 


4O  Robert  Gordon. 

the  honor  hy  performing  some  exploit.  The  idea  of  waiting 
struck  her  unpleasantly,  but  the  unction  of  soothing  words 
anointed  the  sore.  She  continued  to  hang  around  me  and 
to  deal  out  to  me  the  little  stories  and  gossip  of  the 
tribe.  I  endeavored,  with  as  much  address  as  I  could 
command,  to  turn  the  conversation  upon  the  subject  of 
the  Spanish  captive,  and  to  draw  from  her  what  she 
knew  about  the  final  views  of  Watook,  in  regard  to  her 
ransom  and  liberation.  A  flash  of  indignation  and  fierce- 
ness kindled  in  her  eye,  and  she  eagerly  replied:  "You 
bad.  You  same  like  Watook.  She  white.  You  love. 
Never  mind ;  she  no  love  back.  Her  father  big  man,  richs 
no  like  your  people.  You  no  believe  great  spirit.  Never 
mind.  Me  hate  Watook  bad.  Me  glad  she  go  away. 
Nobody  love  Osuna.  She  here."  This  was  just  the  string 
I  wished  to  harp.  I  told  her,  as  well  as  I  could  explain 
myself,  that  I  pitied  the  poor  captive  greatly;  that,  like 
her,  I  wished  to  see  her  away  and  to  know  that  she  was 
among  her  friends ;  that,  in  wishing  this  I  was  influenced 
by  no  motive  but  compassion,  and  that  she  could  do  nothing 
for  me  for  which  I  should  be  so  thankful,  as  to  give  me 
any  information  about  her,  or  any  assistance  in  attempting 
to  enable  her  to  escape.  I  imperceptibly  approached  my 
wishes  with  respect  to  her  interference  with  the  warrior 
who  commanded  the  approach  to  the  valley;  that  through 
her  he  might  be  gained  to  allow  the  captive  to  escape.  I 
told  her  that,  of  course,  I  expected  all  this  to  be  a  profound 
secret.  "Yes.  Me  love,"  she  replied;  "me  no  tell.  Me 
fell  Watook  kill  you."  But  her  notions  of  fidelity  to  the 
tribe  were  of  the  most  trusty  and  highminded  cast.  She 
would  not  contemplate  the  idea  of  tempting  the  sentinel 
to  desert,  though  she  took  care  to  let  me  know  that  she  did 
not  doubt  her  influence  with  him  to  that  point.  I  then 
informed  her  that  I  had  iseen  the  captive,  and  that  she 


The  Captive.  41 

had  apprehensions  that  Watook  was  not  in  good  faith  in 
regard  to  her  ransom.  She  answered,  as  it  appeared, 
with  entire  confidence,  that  Watook  was  a  bad  man,  with 
great  power,  but  that  he  would  not  dare  to  injure  a  person 
under  the  sacred  protection  of  the  tribe;  and  that  all  the 
members  had  too  great  an  interest  in  their  share  of  the 
ransom  to  allow  him  to  think  of  any  dangerous  practice 
upon  her.  She  promised,  however,  that  she  would  watch 
every  motion  of  Watook,  and  give  me  certain  and  timely 
intelligence  if  there  should  be  any  real  ground  for  appre- 
hension. 

Though  disappointed  in  my  attempt  to  influence  Osuna 
to  furnish  the  direct  means  of  escape,  I  flattered  myself 
that  at  another  time  her  heart  or  passions  might  be  so 
moved  as  to  bring  it  about.  I  spent  the  remainder  of 
the  day  in  painful  efforts  to  imagine  some  other  means 
of  her  escape.  All  my  inventions  were  heavy,  or  attended 
with  some  insuperable  difficulty.  I  wandered  to  the  pass 
and  conversed  with  the  sentinel,  using  all  the  words  that 
I  knew,  and  striving  to  win  his  confidence.  I  gained  all 
the  information  that  I  could  glean  from  him  respecting 
the  road  from  that  point  to  Santa  Fe.  I  returned  and 
sauntered  around  the  cabin,  where  the  captive,  who  occupied 
all  my  thoughts,  was  concealed.  Access  was  forbidden; 
but  there  were  no  barriers  to  the  imagination,  and  I  busied 
myself  in  supposing  her  position,  and  her  thoughts,  under 
the  covert  of  this  rude  tenement,  and  I  made  most  fervent 
vows  that  no  effort  should  be  wanting  to  free  this  mistress 
of  my  thoughts. 

As  the  sun  began  to  decline  I  heard  a  shout,  apparently 
of  joy,  in  the  direction  of  the  pass.  It  was  echoed  back 
again  by  the  whole  tribe.  The  old  men,  warriors,  women 
and  children  set  up  such  piercing  yells  of  joy  as  none 
can  imagine  but  those  who  have  heard.  Thirty  warriors, 


42  Robert  Gordon. 

with  Watook  at  their  head,  accompanied  by  a  Spanish 
officer  and  six  soldiers,  came  riding  up  the  valley  toward 
the  village.  Osuna  told  me  it  was  the  return  of  the  depu- 
tation from  Santa  Fe ;  that  they  had  stipulated  the  ransom 
of  the  captive,  and  that  she  was  to  depart  the  next  morning 
under  the  guard  of  the  Spanish  officer  and  soldiers. 

I  had  been  painfully  engaged  in  straining  my  thoughts 
to  devise  the  means  of  her  liberation.  It  appeared  that 
she  was  now  likely  to  be  liberated  without  any  effort  of 
mine.  I  confess  that  I  felt  a  selfish  feeling  of  regret 
that  there  was  no  chance  of  my  having  any  agency  in  the 
business.  The  Spanish  officer  spoke  French.  I  introduced 
myself  to  him,  and  he  courteously  detailed  to  me  all  the 
circumstances  of  the  ransom.  From  him  I  learned  the 
name  of  the  captive.  She  was  called  Dona  Isabel  Hualpa 
de  Olmedo.  Her  father  had  been  on  a  visit  to  Santa 
Fe,  to  quell  the  dawning  spirit  of  insurrection  in  the 
province,  of  which  that  place  is  the  capital.  He  spoke 
with  great  feeling  of  the  beauty  and  accomplishments  of 
the  lovely  captive,  and  the  desolation  of  her  parents  at 
her  loss,  adding,  that  immediately  on  regaining  his 
daughter,  having  succeeded  in  the  object  of  his  visit,  he 
should  set  out  with  her  for  their  home  in  Durango. 

Here,  then,  was  the  vanishing  of  all  my  fairy  visions. 
A  single  interview,  extorted  only  by  the  extreme  pressure 
of  her  condition,  was  no  grounds  on  which  to  seek  an 
introduction  to  her  father,  even  if  I  accompanied  the 
escort  on  its  return  with  her,  as  the  Spanish  officer  invited 
me  to  do.  None  but  voluntary  engagements  detained  me 
here,  and  I  painfully  felt  that  when  she  should  be  gone 
my  interest  in  the  valley  would  be  at  an  end.  The  pleasure 
of  contemplating  beautiful  scenery  is  soothing,  without 
much  excitement,  and  fades  at  once  before  the  higher 
excitements  of  the  feelings  of  the  heart.  But,  on  what 


The  Captive.  43 

pretext  could  I  follow  her?  Certainly  not  on  the  slight 
ground  of  one  casual  meeting,  where  circumstances  com- 
pelled her  to  make  me  her  confidant,  in  want  of  all  others. 
The  thought  of  never  seeing  the  fair  prisoner  again  was 
a  bitter  one.  While  I  was  thus  "chewing  the  cud  of 
sweet  and  bitter  fancy,"  my  cabin  door  opened  and  the 
tall  and  fierce  figure  of  Osuna  was  before  me.  It  was 
not  the  time  for  her  coming  to  discharge  her  usual 
functions.  I  was  aware  that  she  must  have  communi- 
cations which  she  deemed  important,  and  I  waited  in 
breathless  impatience  to  hear  what  she  had  to  say.  She 
first  made  a  motion  to  enjoy  secrecy,  adding  the  emphatic 
fword,  "Hush!  You  tell,  me  die,  you  die."  I  promised 
to  be  silent  as  death.  In  her  laconic  dialect,  which  only 
gave  the  leading  words,  and  leaving  all  the  rest  to  be 
supplied  by  looks  and  gesture,  she  informed  me  that  the 
warrior  who  guarded  the  pass,  her  lover,  had  just  been 
telling  her  that  Watook  was  a  bad  and  treacherous  warrior 
who  meditated  the  basest  treason  against  the  tribe;  wh'ich 
was  no  other  than  to  run  away  with  all  the  money 
which  was  the  ransom  of  the  captive,  which  had  been 
entrusted  to  his  care,  and  to  carry  her  off  with  it  that  night, 
and  fly  to  the  Apaches,  a  numerous  and  fierce  tribe  of 
savages,  then  at  open  war  with  the  Spaniards.  He  proposed 
to  offer  himself  as  a  warrior,  to  forever  renounce  the 
Comanches  and  wished  to  join  himself  to  them.  Such 
elopements  from  one  tribe  to  another  were  common;  and 
a  warrior  with  such  high  fame  as  Watook,  with  so  much 
money  in  his  hands,  could  have  no  doubt  of  his  reception 
among  them.  Watook  proposed  to  her  lover  to  leave  the 
pass  unguarded,  and  to  accompany  his  flight,  with  the 
promise  of  one-half  of  the  ransom  as  a  bribe.  The  sum 
was  thirty  thousand  pesos  in  gold,  an  immense  bribe. 
"But,"  said  she,  "he  no  white  like  you,  but  he  good.  He 


44  Robert  Gordon. 

no  run  off  to  Apaches."  He  had  not,  however,  been  blind 
to  a  motive  among  savage's  the  most  powerful  of  all,  that 
if  Watook  were  away  he  would  become  the  'head  war  chief 
of  the  tribe.  All  chances,  too,  he  would  renew  his  claims 
upon  Osuna,  on  which  score  her  lover  had  jealous  fears, 
would  be  obviated.  With  these  views,  although  he  would 
not  consent  to  fly  to  the  Apaches,  for  half  the  ransom,  he 
had  stipulated  to  allow  Watook  to  escape  with  the  captive, 
and  had  invented  a  plausible  story,  which  would  account 
for  the  escape  without  implicating  himself.  She  closed 
by  saying:  "Me  glad  white  woman  go.  Me  glad  Watook 
go.  Me  good.  Me  tell  all.  Me  your  squaw  now." 


The  Rescue.  45 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE  EESCUE. 

THE  moment  I  received  this  intelligence  it  confirmed 
the  ground  of  the  apprehension  of  the  captive.  I  was 
impatient  to  get  rid  of  Osuna,  who  still  lingered  about 
me  expecting  some  remarks  of  regard,  proportioned  to  the 
importance  of  her  communication.  I  imagined  a  pretext, 
and  sent  her  away  on  it.  As  soon  as  I  was  alone  a  con- 
fusion of  thoughts  came  into  my  mind.  What  was  to  be 
done?  I  could  make  no  communications  to  the  Spanish 
officer,  nor  to  the  chiefs  without  committing  Osuna,  and 
violating  the  most  solemn  promise  of  secrecy.  Besides, 
her  deliverance,  on  which  I  was  determined,  was  a  thing 
in  which  I  wished  for  no  coadjutors.  I  wished  to  achieve 
the  exploit  unaided  and  alone.  My  resolutions  and  my 
plans  were  quickly  formed.  I  had  been  simply  a  student, 
and  all  my  pursuits  and  habits  had  disqualified  me  for 
enterprises  of  the  sort  I  meditated.  But  I  never  felt  the 
least  lack  of  personal  courage.  I  was  muscular  and  nimble 
in  an  unusual  degree.  I  was  in  perfect  health,  and  had  at 
command  a  spirited  horse  and  a  complete  equipment  of 
arms.  I  placed  this  lovely  girl,  in  all  the  beauty  of  her 
interview  with  me,  full  before  my  eyes.  I  imagined  the 
agony  and  despair  of  the  helpless  victim  completely  in  the 
power  of  the  lawless  and  brutal  savage.  His  powers  were 


46  Robert  Gordon. 

indeed  gigantic,  but  I  much  excelled  him  in  agility.  I 
felt  myself  nerved  to  any  point  of  daring,  and  there  was 
not  a  particle  of  apprehension  in  my  mind.  As  soon  as 
the  twilight  disappeared  I  stole  out  to  the  little  stable, 
where  my  horse  was  penned  every  night.  I  saddled  him 
unobserved,  and  carried  out  my  holster  of  pistols.  I  then 
returned,  took  my  supper  as  usual,  and  dispatched  Osuna 
from  the  cabin,  complaining  that  I  was  ill  and  wished  to 
retire  early  to  rest.  The  moment  she  was  gone  I  was  out 
and  mounted,  and  riding  under  the  cover  of  the  trees  and 
ehrubs  to  the  entrance  of  the  valley.  Fortunately,  it  was 
a  night  peculiarly  favorable  to  my  purpose.  It  was  sultry 
and  thick  with  a  smoky  mist.  Fleecy  pillars  of  clouds  were 
spread  over  the  sky,  that  emitted  frequent  and  brilliant 
flashes  of  lightning.  I  was  situated  in  a  thick  shade, 
that  entirely  concealed  both  me  and  my  horse,  and  yet 
so  near  the  pass  that  when  the  sentinel  moved  I  could 
see  his  whole  figure  by  the  lightning,  and  even  its  gleams 
upon  his  tomahawk.  I  waited  in  this  position  until  nearly 
midnight,  when  I  saw  the  sentinel  move  off  in  the  direction 
of  the  village.  Shortly  after  I  heard  the  trampling  of 
two  horses,  rapidly  approaching  the  pass.  The  lightning 
still  gleamed  in  the  distance,  and  my  heart  palpitated  so 
loudly  that  other  sounds  became  indistinct  to  my  ear.  If 
was  only  a  moment  before  I  saw,  by  the  lightning,  the 
gigantic  and  terrible  figure  of  Watook,  and  a  female  figure, 
apparently  bound  fast  to  her  horse,  and  seemingly  strug- 
gling to  disengage  herself  and  to  speak.  He  had  the  bri- 
dle of  her  horse  in  his  hand,  and  both  horses  disappeared  be- 
yond the  cabin  of  the  pass.  My  blood  boiled,  and  the  glow 
at  my  heart  seemed  to  endow  me  with  gigantic  prowess. 
It  occurred  to  me  that  it  was  prudent  to  follow  them  at 
such  a  distance,  as  neither  to  be  seen  nor  heard.  Accord- 
ingly I  waited  until  I  supposed  they  were  half  a  mile  in 


The  Rescue.  47 

advance.  I  then  followed  them,  not  meaning  to  overtake 
them,  until  they  and  myself  were  beyond  the  apprehension 
of  any  interference  from  the  valley.  I  continued  to  ride 
on  behind  them,  sometimes  so  near  that  by  the  diminishing 
flashes  of  the  lightning  I  could  barely  distinguish  their 
figures,  and  then  falling  back,  through  fear  of  being 
observed  myself,  until  I  judged  we  were  ten  miles  from 
the  valley.  I  there  came  upon  a  prairie,  a  level  table  plain, 
a  little  distance  from  the  commencement  of  which  I  had 
learned,  by  previous  information,  that  the  roads  parted, 
one  leading  in  the  direction  of  Santa  Fe,  and  the  other 
toward  the  country  of  the  Apaches.  Here  I  put  my  horse 
to  his  full  speed  and  was  soon  near  enough  to  be  heard 
by  Watook.  He  stopped,  and,  though  the  moon,  struggling 
through  the  clouds,  threw  an  uncertain  light  upon  ob- 
jects, I  observed  him  fastening  his  horse,  which  he  led 
to  a  small  tree.  I  did  the  same.  We  both  dismounted 
and  cautiously  approached  each  other  in  the  darkness.  At 
the  distance  of  ten  paces,  he  uttered  a  sharp,  fierce  cry 
of  interrogation  in  Comanche  and  Spanish,  asking  who 
I  was,  and  what  I  wanted?  I  had  studied  my  reply,  and 
made  it  in  Comanche.  "Leave  your  prisoner  and  be  off." 
I  had  scarcely  pronounced  the  words  before  I  received 
the  shot  of  his  carbine  through  my  clothes,  slightly  graz- 
ing my  shoulder,  and  in  an  instant  his  tomahawk  whistled 
past  my  head.  I  made  an  unavailing  shot  with  my  yager, 
and  before  I  could  disengage  my  pistols  from  the  holster, 
we  were  struggling  together  in  deadly  grasp,  each  aiming 
to  dispatch  the  other  with  the  dirk.  I  had  once  been  the 
champion  of  the  ring,  but  he  lifted  me  from  the  ground 
and  threw  me  to  the  earth.  Though  under  him,  I  had  the 
control  of  his  arms,  and  held  them  fast.  I  comprehended 
that  he  was  so  much  my  superior  in  strength,  that  unless 
I  availed  myself  of  superior  coolness  and  dexterity,  he 


48  Robert  Gordon. 

would  be  sure  to  destroy  me.  His  was  the  struggle  of  an 
infuriated  demon,  and  my  policy  was  to  entangle  his  arms, 
and  parry  his  efforts  to  draw  his  dirk  until  he  should  ex- 
haust himself  in  putting  forth  his  brute  strength.  I  re- 
ceived several  bruises,  and  felt  his  horrid  teeth  fixed  in 
my  arms  and  elsewhere,  but  I  still  held  to  the  defensive, 
and  let  him  struggle  on.  He  somehow  contrived  to  dis- 
engage his  dirk  from  his  bosom,  and  gave  me  a  cut  in 
the  arm;  but  I  soon  had  the  satisfaction  to  discover  that 
his  strength  was  sinking  in  exhaustion,  and  that  his  efforts 
were  growing  weaker.  I  availed  myself  of  a  momentary 
slackening  of  his  hold  on  me,  and  summoning  my  yet  un- 
wasted  power,  I  threw  him  off,  and  was  uppermost  in  my 
turn.  In  a  moment  he  received  my  dirk  in  his  bosom. 
He  uttered  the  yell  of  a  fury,  and  disengaged  himself 
from  me  as  if  I  had  been  but  an  infant.  He  made  a  deadly 
thrust,  which,  had  I  not  parried,  would  have  been  fatal. 
As  it  was,  I  was  severely  wounded  in  the  arm  by  which  I 
warded  off  the  thrust.  This  was  his  expiring  effort.  He 
fell  with  a  convulsive  sob,  and  was  still. 

I  was  covered  with  blood,  both  his  and  my  own.  I  felt 
it  trickling  from  my  wounds,  but  equally  felt  that  they 
were  not  mortal.  I  ran  to  the  captive,  who  sat  on  her 
horse  at  a  little  distance  from  the  combat.  A  handkerchief 
was  so  placed  over  her  mouth  that  she  was  only  able  to 
utter  hoarse  and  scarcely  audible  sounds  of  distress.  I 
tore  away  the  handkerchief,  unbound  her  pinioned  arms, 
cut  away  the  rope  by  which  she  was  bound  to  the  horse, 
and  made  myself  known  to  her.  Her  terror  and  the  agony 
of  her  situation  took  from  her  for  some  moments  the 
power  to  reply.  I  placed  her  gently  on  the  grass,  and 
made  all  the  efforts  that  the  case  admitted,  to  calm 
her  terrors  and  agitation;  I  made  her  comprehend  the 
danger  of  pursuit  from  the  valley,  and  that  no  time  was 


The  Rescue.  49 

to  be  lost.  Her  first  words  were  scarcely  articulate  thanks 
to  the  Virgin  Mary  for  her  deliverance,  and  her  next  were 
inquiries  if  I  had  received  wounds  in  the  affray.  I  an- 
swered that  I  was  slightly  wounded,  but  begged  her  to 
think  of  nothing  but  escape;  and  as  soon  as  she  was  able, 
to  mount  her  horse  and  fly  toward  Santa  Fe.  To  be  in 
preparation  for  the  flight,  I  took  the  horse  of  the  savage 
that  I  had  slain,  and  brought  him  to  mine.  The  horse 
was  literally  loaded  with  money.  I  apportioned  this 
among  the  three  horses,  and  encouraged  the  young  lady  to 
mount  her  horse  again.  She  uttered  earnest  and  vehement 
exclamations,  indicating  mingled  terror  and  thankfulness, 
and  promised  to  exert  her  best  strength  to  fly.  To  mount 
and  be  off  was  the  work  of  a  moment,  and  I  felt  no  com- 
punction at  leaving  the  wretch  I  had  slain  to  the  burial  of 
the  carrion  vultures. 

It  was  not  long  before  my  fair  companion  regained  the 
power  of  speech,  and  a  sufficient  degree  of  composure  to 
talk  of  her  wonderful  escape,  and  to  find  those  artless,  but 
powerful  expressions  of  gratitude,  which  indicated  at  once 
strong  feeling  and  a  quick  sense  of  delicacy  and  propriety. 
"I  shudder  to  think  of  the  condition,"  said  she,  "from 
which  you  have  rescued  me.  Death  were  but  a  trifle,  in 
comparison  of  what  I  had  to  apprehend.  Oh !  what  words 
could  describe  what  I  felt,  while  you  were  engaged  in  the 
mortal  struggle.  I  cannot  imagine  how  you  could  have 
triumphed  over  such  a  terrible  and  gigantic  enemy.  Your 
voice  is  weak,  and  I  much  fear  that  you  have  deceived  me 
as  to  the  severity  of  your  wounds."  I  endeavored  to  quiet 
her  apprehensions  by  assuring  her  that  my  exertions  and 
power  of  horsemanship  would  show  her  that  I  was  not 
dangerously  wounded ;  that  for  the  rest,  I  waived  all  thanks 
if  she  would  put  her  horse  to  his  utmost  speed,  and  render 


50  Robert  Gordon. 

the  deliverance  effectual  by  getting  too  far  in  advance  of 
pursuit  to  be  overtaken. 

But,  in  truth,  I  felt  weak  and  exhausted.  I  had,  in- 
deed, achieved  a  considerable  victory,  had  won  back  an 
immense  booty,  had  shown  some  daring,  and  had  delivered 
a  distressed  damsel  of  exquisite  beauty,  and  under  circum- 
stances which  must  call  forth  grateful  feelings,  and  ren- 
der me  in  her  eye  something  of  a  hero.  All  these  invigo- 
rating motives  did  not  hinder  nature  from  asserting  her 
claims.  I  felt  my  exhaustion  increase  with  every  mile. 
I  frequently  and  anxiously  looked  toward  the  regions  of 
the  morning.  But  it  seemed,  in  my  weakness  and  impa- 
tience, as  though  the  sun  had  forgotten  to  rise.  I  trem- 
bled from  the  chill  of  the  morning  air,  the  pain  of  my 
wounds,  and  the  apprehension  of  pursuit;  and  my  com- 
panion discovered  increasing  fears  about  my  wounds.  Her 
apprehension  rose  to  terror  as  the  increasing  twilight  dis- 
closed my  whole  dress  covered  with  blood,  and  the  paleness 
of  my  countenance. 

At  length  the  sun  arose,  and  in  his  glory,  from  the  roll- 
ing mists  which  curled  above  the  mountains,  down  the 
green  slopes  of  which  we  had  been  winding.  At  the  dis- 
tance of  half  a  league  below  us  on  the  plain,  appeared  a 
village,  inhabited  partly  by  Spaniards,  and  partly  by 
civilized  Indians.  Their  flat  roofed  and  whitewashed 
dwellings  resembled,  in  the  distance,  little  square  towers, 
and  the  smoke  of  their  fires  streamed  aloft  from  the  peace- 
ful hamlet.  I  welcomed  the  prospect  as  the  omen  of  repose 
and  protection.  Weak  as  I  was,  my  heart  exulted.  Ely- 
sian  prospects  danced  before  my  imagination.  I  had  fab- 
ricated in  fancy  the  last  act  of  my  drama,  and  the  catas- 
trophe was  delightful.  I  turned  to  my  fair  companion. 
"Courage !"  said  I,  "we  are  free.  This  is  the  first  prospect 
that  guarantees  us  against  the  danger  of  your  being  recap- 


The  Rescue.  51 

tured  and  carried  back  again.  I  have  not  dared  to  believe 
in  the  reality  of  your  deliverance  until  now."  She  sur- 
veyed me  as  I  was  all  stained  with  blood,  and  tears  of  ten- 
derness and  joy  started  in  her  eyes.  "How  much  I  fear," 
she  replied,  "that  I  have  purchased  this  deliverance  by 
suffering  and  sickness  and  danger  to  you!  I  tremble  to 
see  how  pale  you  are/* 

We  entered  the  village  and  were  soon  surrounded  by  a 
crowd  of  villagers,  proposing  to  me  and  the  young  lady  a 
thousand  questions.  She  waved  them  to  retire,  and  send 
for  the  village  physician.  I  did  not  understand  what  she 
said,  for  she  addressed  them  in  Spanish.  But  I  saw  their 
grateful  eyes  turned  upon  me,  and  comprehended  that 
they  could  not  retire  satisfied  until  she  had  given  them  the 
substance  of  our  story.  The  authorities  of  the  village  at- 
tended us  directly,  and  we  were  conducted  with  homage 
and  observance  to  the  little  meson,  and  to  the  best  apart- 
ment in  it.  Nothing  could  have  been  more  opportune  than 
this  repose.  I  was  almost  fainting,  before  a  mattress  could 
be  prepared.  But  I  retained  consciousness  enough  to  ob- 
serve that  my  fair  companion  betrayed  as  much  alarm 
and  sensibility,  as  vanity  itself  could  desire.  When  the 
sapient  personage  came,  who  operated  both  as  surgeon  and 
physician,  he  pronounced  that  we  were  both  equally  faint 
and  in  danger ;  but  that  as  the  life  of  the  Dona  de  Olmedo 
was  of  course  much  more  important  than  mine,  he  pro- 
posed to  commence  his  operations  upon  her.  This  obser- 
vation brought  back  the  color  to  her  cheeks,  and  protesting 
that  she  was  quite  well,  she  insisted  that  he  should  imme- 
diately examine  and  dress  my  wounds.  When  he  found 
that  nothing  could  be  done  with  her,  he  began  on  me.  My 
wounds  were  examined,  and  the  stains  of  blood  washed 
away.  He  pronounced  in  a  deep,  oracular  tone,  and  my 
companion  interpreted  to  me,  that  if  I  were  careful  and 


52  Robert  Gordon. 

observed  proper  precaution,  and  took  the  necessary  repose, 
I  might  probably  do  well ;  that  my  wounds  were  severe,  if 
not  dangerous;  and  that  I  could  not,  with  safety,  depart 
from  under  his  hands  for  a  considerable  time. 

Here  commenced  between  me  and  the  young  lady  a  kind 
of  contest,  whose  interest  of  the  two  should  yield  to  the 
other.  It  was  evidently  dangerous  for  her  to  remain. 
This  village  was  so  near  the  Comanches,  and  they  could 
easily  send  a  force  against  it  that  would  enable  them  to  re- 
gain the  captive,  or  at  least  the  price  of  her  ransom  would 
be  demanded.  She  certainly  dreaded  the  thought  of 
being  in  any  way  in  their  power  again.  This  was  an  un- 
answerable argument  why  she  should  go  on  without  delay. 
I,  on  my  part,  insisted  on  this,  and  assured  her  that  all  I 
wanted  was  breakfast  and  a  glass  of  wine  to  be  able  to 
follow  her.  She,  on  the  contrary,  insisted  that  the  physi- 
cian must  know  best  whether  it  was  safe  for  me  to  proceed ; 
that  she  apprehended  no  other  danger  from  being  pursued 
by  the  savages  than  being  obliged  to  refund  the  ransom — 
a  matter  to  which  she  attached  no  consequence:  that, 
however  anxious  to  return  to  her  parents,  no  considera- 
tion could  induce  her  to  leave  me  in  such  a  miserable 
place,  and  with  such  attendants,  as  long  as  there  was 
any  danger  in  the  case;  affirming  that  she  should  not  de- 
part until  it  was  deemed  safe  for  me  to  accompanv  her. 
I  believe  that  the  first  gallant  remark  which  I  had  ever 
made  to  any  one,  was,  that  she  was  placing  temptations 
before  me  in  such  case,  to  affect  to  be  sick,  and  thus  pro- 
long the  stay.  To  this,  she  replied,  slightly  blushing,  that 
there  were  no  calls  for  remarks  of  that  sort;  that  she 
proffered  no  more  than  the  simplest  offices  of  humanity; 
that  my  paleness  sufficiently  confirmed  all  that  the  physi- 
cian had  said;  and  that  she  knew  her  duty  better,  thaii 


The  Rescue.  53 

to  leave  one  who  had  so  nobly  exposed  himself,  and  so 
severely  suffered  for  her  sake,  from  selfish  consideration. 

"Well,  then,"  I  replied,  "if  you  are  peremptory,  so 
also  will  I  be.  I  will  have  breakfast,  and  I  will  take  a 
glass  of  wine,  and  then,  if  my  strength  admits,  I  will 
proceed  on  my  way  toward  Santa  Fe  alone,  if  you  will 
not  accompany  me.  For  I  am  perfectly  aware  that  this 
doctor  is  a  blockhead,  and  that  all  I  need  is  refreshment. 
If  I  have  exposed  myself,  and  suffered,  I  will  not  con- 
sent that  it  shall  all  be  unavailing,  by  allowing  you  to 
remain  here  until  you  are  overtaken,  and  carried  back 
to  the  valley."  So  saying,  I  made  signs  to  the  host  that 
I  wanted  wine  and  breakfast.  A  fowl  and  venison  was 
soon  placed  before  us,  and  a  bottle  of  exquisite  parso.  I 
had  to  encounter  the  tender  remonstrance  of  my  com- 
panion, and  the  grave  assurance  of  the  physician,  that 
such  a  course  would  prove  my  death.  I  ate,  and  drank, 
and  was  refreshed,  and  felt  no  other  inconvenience  than 
a  certain  degree  of  stiffness  and  soreness  in  my  wounds, 
and  weakness  from  the  loss  of  blood.  When  she  saw  it 
was  of  no  further  use  to  remonstrate,  the  young  lady  took 
refreshments  too.  Our  bills  were  discharged,  and  I  as- 
sisted her  on  horseback,  and  mounted  myself.  The  mili- 
tary company  of  the  village  was  in  attendance,  offering 
any  escort  the  village  could  furnish  for  guarding  to  her 
home  so  considerable  a  personage  as  the  only  daughter 
of  Conde  Olmedo.  For  my  part,  I  felt  happier,  if  not 
safer  to  be  alone,  and  felt  glad  to  hear  her  decline 
the  proffered  aid,  wisely  remarking  that  whatever  force 
the  savages  should  send  against  us,  would  have  to  pass 
by  the  village,  and  that  they  could  make  a  more  effective 
resistance  there,  than  with  us.  The  force  that  was  offered 
us,  had  actually  been  collected  and  put  in  array,  in  less 
than  the  two  hours  that  we  stayed  in  the  village.  It  was 


54  Robert  Gordon. 

sufficiently  formidable  in  numbers,  and,  in  appearance,  not 
unlike  the  regiment  of  Falstaff.  I  did  not  doubt  that  they 
would  all  have  scampered  away  in  view  of  twenty  Co- 
manches.  As  it  was,  they  accompanied  us  with  great 
parade  a  league  on  our  way. 

I  was  refreshed  and  invigorated  by  the  food  and 
wine.  Once  more  on  horseback,  and  alone  with  my 
fair  companion,  my  wounds,  my  recent  peril,  and  all 
the  past  was  forgotten,  and  the  future  opened  upon 
me  with  all  the  rich  coloring  of  hope.  I  contemplated 
nearer  and  with  more  intense  interest,  my  companion,  on 
whose  fine  countenance  the  buoyancy  of  youth,  intelligence, 
and  spirit  were  gleaming  again.  She  admitted  that  the 
physician  must  have  mistaken  my  case,  for  that  I  had 
regained  the  same  countenance  in  which  she  had  seen  me 
at  first.  Her  apprehensions  on  this  score  relieved,  and 
her  native  flow  of  spirits  returning,  her  conversation 
became  frank  and  delightful.  I  was  astonished  at  a 
display  of  talent  and  acquirements,  premature  in  any 
place  for  so  young  a  lady,  and  particularly  unexpected 
from  a  young  lady  of  that  country,  whose  inhabitants  in 
general,  we  have  been  taught  to  consider  so  uneducated. 
The  prematurity  of  attainment  might  be  accounted  for,  by 
the  well-known  fact,  that  the  mind,  as  well  as  the  form, 
of  females  is  developed  earlier  in  southern,  than  in  north- 
ern countries.  She  informed  me  that  she  had  been  edu- 
cated with  great  care,  in  a  convent  in  Seville,  in  Old  Spain, 
of  which  city  her  father  was  an  ancient  grandee.  He 
had  served  with  distinction  in  his  early  years,  on  the  coast 
of  Morocco  against  the  Moors,  and  had  sustained  various 
offices  and  honors  there.  Just  before  the  invasion  of  his 
country  by  Napoleon,  he  had  been  appointed  to  the  high 
and  lucrative  trust  which  he  now  held  in  New  Spain. 
.Wisely  foreseeing  in  the  distance  the  approaching  distrac- 


The  Rescue.  55 

tions  of  the  mother  country,  he  had  renounced  it  forever 
as  a  home,  and  had,  on  receiving  the  appointment  in  ques- 
tion, transferred  the  proceeds  of  his  immense  fortune  to 
the  New  World.  He  lived  in  dignified  and  stately  retire- 
ment, near  the  seat  of  his  government,  Durango,  in  New 
Spain.  It  was  not  long  since  he  had  sent  for  his  daughter. 
At  this  point  of  her  story  her  voice  faltered.  Her 
countenance  was  suffused  with  the  crimson  of  conscious- 
ness, and  she  seemed  to  hesitate  about  proceeding  any  fur- 
ther in  her  narrative.  But,  apparently,  a  wish  to  prepare 
me  for  an  acquaintance  with  her  father's  family  by  some 
previous  knowledge  of  its  situation  and  members,  possi- 
bly some  little  interest  in  a  young  man  who  might  be 
supposed  to  have  some  estimation  in  her  mind,  seemed 
to  urge  her  on.  She  went  on  to  observe,  that  on  arriv- 
ing at  her  father's  house,  she  was  introduced  to  a  young 
gentleman,  called  Don  De  Oli  Cabelle,  son  of  a  nobleman 
of  Old  Spain,  who  had  been  a  compatriot  and  fellow- 
soldier  with  her  father,  and  who  now  discharged  a  lucrative 
and  important  trust  in  Mexico.  She  instantly  perceived 
that  there  were  particular  views  in  his  being  there,  at  the 
juncture  of  her  arrival;  that,  for  her  part,  she  was  ready 
to  admit  his  prospects,  rank,  and  dignity,  but  that  he 
had  always  been  unamiable  in  her  view;  that  she  might 
possibly  come  in  time  to  esteem  him  as  a  friend,  or  a  rel- 
ative, but  in  any  nearer  connection,  never;  that  she  had 
expressed  as  much  to  her  father,  when  he  intimated  his 
wish  that  she  might  look  upon  him  with  other  feelings ;  that 
events  were  proceeding  in  this  train  at  her  father's  house, 
until  the  preceding  winter;  that  then  her  father  had  been 
compelled,  by  the  duties  of  his  office,  to  visit  the  frontier 
provinces,  to  quell  the  spirit  of  insurrection  against  the 
existing  government;  that  she  had  accompanied  her 
father,  his  family,  and  Don  De  Oli  in  their  journey  to 


56  Robert  Gordon. 

Santa  Fe;  and  after  having  resided  there  for  some  time, 
she  had  been  invited  to  the  fatal  party  of  her  father's 
friend ;  and  that,  on  returning  from  it,  as  had  been  related, 
she  was  captured  by  the  Comanches.  She  recurred  to  the 
forebodings  of  which  she  had  spoken  to  me  in  the  valley. 
She  perceived  that  Watook  entertained  for  her,  sentiments 
for  which  she  had  no  other  name  than  love;  that  he  had 
insinuated  in  his  way,  how  much  more  independent  and 
happy  the  wife  of  a  Comanche  chief  would  be,  than  the 
wife  of  a  cowardly  Spaniard ;  that  his  mother  often  talked 
in  the  same  strain,  and  began  finally  to  intimate  to  her 
the  necessity  of  making  up  her  mind  to  receive  Watook 
as  a  husband,  and  to  be  adopted  in  the  tribe,  as  so  many 
other  captives  were.  To  all  this  she  had  considered  it 
the  part  of  policy  to  make  no  reply.  Up  to  this  time  she 
had  trembled,  indeed,  to  find  herself  a  captive  among  them. 
Such  stories  were  familiar  to  her  ear.  She  had  never 
supposed,  for  a  moment,  that  anything  worse  was  likely 
to  come  of  it  than  a  heavy  ransom,  which  she  well  knew, 
would  be  no  consideration  with  her  father.  For  they  made 
no  secret  that  they  detained  her  simply  with  a  view  to 
her  ransom ;  that  after  Watook  had  arrived  the  preceding 
day  with  the  Spanish  guard,  her  suspicions  of  his  in- 
tended treachery  were  first  excited,  by  finding  that  the 
Spanish  guard  was  not  allowed  to  visit  her.  Watook  pre- 
tended that  all  the  preliminaries  of  the  ransom  were  not 
yet  settled;  that,  as  soon  as  the  evening  came,  she  found 
herself  watched,  and  not  permitted  to  leave  her  cabin; 
that  Watook  then  came  in,  and  told  her  that  he  was 
a  much  greater  man  than  her  father;  that  the  Spaniards 
were  no  better  than  squaws;  that  he  determined  to  make 
her  his  squaw,  as  many  of  the;  tribe  had  Spanish  squaws. 
That  he  knew  how  to  love  better  than  a  pitiful  white  man ; 
and  that  she  should  have  plenty  of  servants,  horses,  money, 


The  Rescue.  57 

and  vermilion,  and  want  nothing,  if  she  would  go  will- 
ingly with  him  among  the  Apaches.  But  that  if  she  made 
any  difficulty,  he  was  not  like  a  white  skin,  to  be  turned 
from  his  purpose,  and  that  he  would  bind  her  fast,  and 
carry  her  off  by  force.  He  then  insisted  on  a  direct  an- 
swer. She  watched  an  opportunity,  and  made  an  effort 
to  get  abroad  and  reveal  his  intended  treachery,  and 
claim  the  protection  of  the  tribe;  but  Watook  and  his 
mother  brought  her  back  by  force,  and  bound  her,  and 
placed  a  handkerchief  over  her  face,  as  has  been  related; 
and  that  not  far  from  midnight  they  had  placed  her  on 
horseback,  and  bound  her  so  firmly,  that  all  her  strug- 
gles to  disengage  herself  had  been  unavailing. 

Such  was  the  brief  story  of  her  captivity.  From  this 
story  she  digressed  to  the  history  of  her  father's  family. 
It  was  sufficiently  obvious,  amidst  all  the  delicacy  and  cir- 
cumspection of  these  details,  that  she  counted  upon  me,  for 
a  while  at  least,  as  likely  to  become  a  member  of  her 
father's  house,  and  that  she  wished  me  to  have  a  full 
view  of  the  ground  before  me,  with  the  benevolent  wish, 
that  understanding  the  different  characters,  I  might  cal- 
culate best  how  to  propitiate  them.  She  spoke  of  her 
father  as  honorable,  highminded,  and  ambitious,  loving 
her  more  than  anything  else,  except  power,  but  flexible 
and  unsteady  in  his  purpose.  In  her  eulogy  of  her  mother, 
she  was  unsparing  and  unqualified.  She  represented  her  as 
educated,  gifted,  gentle,  and  affectionate  in  the  extreme, 
and  receiving  from  her  the  entireness  of  filial  affection. 
In  speaking  of  the  father  confessor,  her  views  of  sanctity 
of  his  office  forbade  her  from  describing  him  in  terms  of 
reprehension.  But  I  could  perceive  that  she  wished  to 
put  me  on  my  guard  against  him.  It  was  clear,  too,  that 
in  her  account  of  her  admirer,  more  was  meant  than  what 
met  the  ear,  and  that  she  wished  me  to  see  that  it  was 


58  Robert  Gordon. 

out  of  the  question  for  me  to  think  of  anything  beyond 
the  claims  of  simple  gratitude ;  and  to  caution  me  against 
entertaining  any  aspiring  views  in  my  own  case.  At 
least  she  wished  me  to  take  a  full  and  entire  survey  of 
the  premises,  and  all  the  rocks  and  quicksands,  that  I 
might  know  how  to  steer  my  little  skiff  among  them. 
For  the  rest,  with  a  great  deal  of  spirit  and  vivacity,  she 
was  all  truth  and  simplicity.  There  was  a  laconic  force 
in  her  expressions,  and  a  delightful  Spanish  accent  in  her 
French,  which  rendered  her  conversation  singularly  inter- 
esting. I  was  flattered  by  the  pains  which  she  took  to  en- 
able me  to  understand  the  bearings  of  things  in  her  father's 
home,  and  notwithstanding  I  had  requested  her  to  re- 
cur no  more  to  the  subject  of  obligations  to  me,  and  though 
she  wished  to  avoid  the  theme,  artless  expressions  of  grati- 
tude, and  anxiety  that  I  might  find  it  consistent  to  fix 
myself  in  her  father's  family,  escaped  her  in  spite  of  her- 
self. I  will  fairly  confess  to  you  that  I  did  not  at  all  re- 
gret my  loss  of  blood,  nor  the  anguish  of  my  wounds, 
which  received  such  amiable  and  considerate  sympathy.  I 
was  a  young  man,  and,  to  avail  myself  of  the  old  Latin 
saw,  you  would  expect  nothing  of  me  beyond  my  age  and 
feelings.  It  was  to  me  a  most  delightful  journey,  and, 
from  the  kindling  brightness  of  her  eye,  and  the  growing 
frankness  of  her  conversation,  I  had  reason  to  believe  not 
unpleasant  to  her.  She  listened  with  the  most  flattering 
attention  to  my  short  recital  of  the  passage  of  my  history 
up  to  the  present  time,  and  seemed  as  much  astonished  at 
the  possibility  of  such  an  education  as  mine  being  obtained 
in  the  States,  as  I  had  been  that  she  should  have  been  so 
well  instructed  in  New  Spain.  She  informed  me  that 
a  thought  occurred  to  her  of  an  employment,  as  she  judged, 
suited  to  my  character  and  pursuits,  that  would  offer  in 
her  father's  family,  which  she  thought  might  induce  me 


The  Rescue.  59 

to  settle  there.  She  did  not  name  it,  but  stated  that  she 
would  suggest  it  to  her  father,  and  hoped  that  through  him 
it  would  be  offered  and  made  acceptable  to  me. 

In  these  conversations,  and  in  occasional  stops  at  mesons, 
the  time  passed  rapidly.  As  soon  as  we  were  free  from 
the  fear  of  pursuit,  I  could  have  wished  the  distance  to 
Santa  Fe  twice  as  great  as  it  was.  The  country  was  de- 
lightfully interesting,  and  every  prospect  brightened  in 
my  eye.  The  people  all  seemed  good,  obliging,  and  happy. 
I  had  not  been  much  used  to  the  society  of  ladies, 
but  I  used  every  effort  in  this  case  to  stand  on  my 
best.  Either  joy  exalted  my  imagination,  or  the  coun- 
try was  more  beautiful,  and  the  scenery  more  inspir- 
ing than  any  I  had  seen,  or  the  slight  fever  of  my 
wounds  created  a  fermenting  excitement  in  my  brain. 
Be  the  cause  what  it  might,  I  felt  myself  a  new  man  in 
point  of  eloquence.  I  smiled  internally  at  my  own  volu- 
bility. Everything  seemed  to  suggest  thoughts  and  words 
to  me.  I  was  thorough  in  my-  French,  but  had  never  been 
in  the  habit  of  speaking  it.  It  appeared  as  if  the  occa- 
sion had  transformed  me  into  a  Parisian.  I  noticed  more 
than  once,  that  my  energy  of  language  and  fluency  of  ex- 
pression brought  a  smile  into  her  face,  in  which  there 
seemed  to  be  a  kind  of  arch  consciousness. 

Everything  on  the  earth,  both  joy  and  sorrow,  have  their 
turn,  and  this  journey  was  too  pleasant  to  last  long.  The 
evening  of  the  third  day  was  drawing  on,  when,  in  the 
direction  of  the  setting  sun,  we  saw  the  glittering  of  the 
towers  of  Santa  Fe.  A  peasant  had  been  sent  in  advance 
to  advise  the  Conde  of  the  approach  of  his  daughter. 
"Yonder,"  said  she,  turning  her  melting  and  thankful 
eyes  to  heaven,  "is  the  house  where  reside  my  dear  parents. 
What  words  could  convey  the  emotion  of  my  heart,  as  I 
return  to  them  ?  And  what  do  they  and  I  owe  to  you,  gen- 


60  Robert  Gordon, 

erous  deliverer  ?  The  chill  of  death  must  be  on  this  heart, 
before  it  forgets  its  obligations."  Saying  this  she  clasped 
her  hands  and  seemed  to  be  devoutly  occupied  in  thanks- 
giving until  we  entered  the  'city.  We  were  apprised  that 
the  news  of  her  deliverance  and  return  had  been  spread, 
for  we  entered  amidst  the  ringing  of  bells,  firing  of  can- 
non, and  great  rejoicing  by  the  whole  population,  who 
poured  into  the  streets  and  crowded  around  us.  She  was 
nearly  stifled  with  kisses  and  embraces,  for  we  had  dis- 
mounted, and  our  horses  were  led  through  the  city.  We 
were  conducted  to  the  palace  which  the  Conde  occupied 
as  a  temporary  residence.  Around  the  court  was  paraded 
all  the  military  of  the  town  and  vicinity,  in  sufficient  num- 
bers, it  seemed  to  me,  to  have  blotted  out  the  whole  Co- 
manche  nation,  and  obtained  the  release  of  the  captive  by 
force. 

At  the  gate  that  opened  into  the  court  of  the  palace  ap- 
peared the  Conde,  surrounded  by  his  officers.  He  was  a 
stout,  venerable  looking  man;  enveloped  in  a  flowing  Span- 
ish cloak,  a  broad,  drooping  hat  with  white  plumes,  and 
armed  with  a  sword.  His  countenance  was  noble,  but 
stern.  His  appearance  strongly  called  up  the  remem- 
brance of  prints  of  the  Spanish  in  the  times  of  Charles  V. 
As  soon  as  the  father  and  daughter  saw  each  other  the 
state  of  the  grandee  gave  place  to  the  tenderness  of  the 
father.  It  was  one  of  those  meetings  which  the  imagina- 
tion can  paint.  At  the  door  of  the  palace  the  daugh- 
ter exchanged  the  arms  of  the  father  for  those  of  the 
mother,  and  the  raptures,  tears,  and  sobbings  were  from  a 
motive  the  direct  opposite  of  that  which  caused  the  lamen- 
tation heard  in  Eamah.  I  had  never  witnessed  such  a 
scene,  nor  such  a  cause  for  rejoicing.  Domestics,  In- 
dians, negroes,  old  and  young,  crowded  around  the  re- 
stored daughter.  No  other  language  has  so  many  terms 


The  Rescue.  61 

of  fondness  as  the  Spanish,  and  this  occasion  seemed  to 
exhaust  them.  After  the  salutations  of  the  family,  she 
received  those  of  the  tall,  whiskered,  and  stately  Don 
De  Oli,  who  appeared  to  eye  me  from  the  first  moment  with 
lowering  looks  of  distrust.  Then  she  was  welcomed  home 
by  the  duenna,  and  last  of  all  by  the  father  confessor. 

Some  minutes  elapsed  before  there  was  sufficient  com- 
posure for  my  introduction.  I  was  then  introduced  by  the 
daughter  to  her  parents,  with  a  concise,  but  energetic 
statement  of  what  I  had  done,  and  of  her  obligations,  in 
French.  I  went  through  this  introduction  with  more  con- 
fidence and  composure  than  I  had  expected.  The  speak- 
ing and  encouraging  countenance  of  the  daughter  followed 
me  through  it;  and  it  was  sufficiently  visible  to  me,  that 
she  wished  me  to  make  a  favorable  impression.  The  Span- 
ish are  known  for  the  strength  and  earnestness  of  their 
feelings  when  a  great  occasion  excites  them.  I  could 
not  have  wished  for  more  praise  and  gratitude  than 
I  received  from  all.  I  was  the  hero  of  the  hour.  Deep 
and  unaffected  concern  was  manifested  about  my 
wounds  and  paleness.  They  forgot  all  about  my  coun- 
try and  religion  in  the  excitement  of  the  moment.  It 
was  a  full  hour  before  the  restored  daughter  had  told 
enough  of  her  story,  and  endured  enough  caresses  to  be 
allowed  to  sit  down  in  quiet.  We  were  then  seated  to  choc- 
olate and  supper.  The  daughter  was  seated  between  the 
father  and  mother,  with  a  hand  in  the  hand  of  each.  On 
one  side  was  the  father  confessor,  and  on  the  other  Don' 
De  Oli.  So  seated,  she  gave  a  brief  narrative  of  her  cap- 
tivity and  release  in  Spanish,  and  so  loud  and  distinct, 
that  the  assembled  family  could  hear.  At  every  turn  in 
her  story,  although  I  could  not  comprehend  the  language, 
I  could  easily  discern,  by  the  grateful  eyes  of  the  hearers 
turned  upon  me,  that  I  had  my  full  meed  of  praise.  If  I 


61  Robert  Gordon. 

ever  saw  cause  for  envy,  it  was  the  feelings  of  the  parents 
and  the  child  on  this  joyous  occasion.  From  the  supper 
table  we  were  ushered  into  the  chapel.  It  was  hung  with 
black,  decorated  with  religious  paintings,  and  lighted  with 
waxen  tapers.  The  daughter  turned  upon  me  an  imploring 
look,  the  purport  of  which  I  understood  to  be,  to  go  as  far 
as  I  could  in  imitating  the  rest.  High  mass  was  cele- 
brated by  the  father  confessor  with  great  solemnity,  and  a 
Te  Deum  performed  on  the  organ.  My  views  of  religious 
obligation,  and  my  principles,  allowed  me  to  go  certain, 
but  not  all  lengths,  in  joining  in  the  ceremonies  of  their 
church.  A  single  look  from  the  daughter,  as  I  came  from 
the  chapel,  told  me  that,  in  her  judgment,  I  had  kept  the 
right  medium  in  this  observance. 

I  retired  for  rest,  but,  much  as  I  needed  repose,  not  to 
sleep.  The  adventures  of  the  last  three  days  had  crowded 
upon  me  too  rapidly  to  allow  my  mind  easily  to  return  to 
its  natural  level  of  repose.  Its  agitation  was  that  of  the 
waves,  just  after  the  fury  of  the  storm.  I  threw  myself 
on  the  stately  and  downy  couch  assigned  me,  and  wished 
the  calm  which  sleep  gives,  before  I  took  a  view  of  my 
actual  position,  and  attempt  to  arrange  my  plans  for  the 
future.  But  the  more  I  courted  sleep,  the  more  tumultu- 
ously  thoughts  crowded  upon  me.  The  old  question  re- 
turned, "What  doest  thou,  and  what  wilt  thou  do  here?" 
A  youth,  from  the  land  of  undeviating  industry  and  regu- 
lar pursuits,  in  the  wild  regions  west  of  the  Mississippi, 
then  among  the  savages,  and  soon  after  his  hands  red 
with  the  blood  of  a  fellow  creature,  a  knight  errant,  a  de- 
liverer of  a  beautiful  and  distressed  damsel;  and  finally 
in  the  palace  of  a  grandee  of  Spain  among  Catholics,  a 
people  of  other  manners,  another  language,  and  another 
religion.  What  have  I  to  do  here  ?  On  what  pretext  stay  ? 
Shall  I  accept  a  compensation  which  I  have  fairly  won? 


The  Rescue.  63 

I  came  to  this  country  with  mixed  motives,  not  distinctly 
known  to  myself;  but  to  acquire  an  honest  fortune  was, 
undoubtedly,  one  of  my  hopes.  Should  I  accept  this  com- 
pensation, and  take  my  leave,  will  not  a  certain  image  be 
painfully  present  to  my  remembrances?  At  least  there 
appears  at  present  no  assignable  ground  for  my  remaining 
here.  Because  I  delivered  the  daughter,  shall  I  fix  myself 
on  her  family?  What  was  the  employment  of  which  she 
spoke?  And  then,  had  she  manifested  any  symptoms  of 
flattering  partiality  for  me?  None  at  all.  She  had  been 
simply  grateful,  and  had  taken  pains  to  put  an  extin- 
guisher upon  any  such  idle  notions,  by  letting  me  know 
that,  by  the  family,  at  least,  all  the  elements  of  such  a  cal- 
culation had  been  previously  arranged  and  settled.  To 
look  upon  all  sides  of  all  these  subjects  was  employment 
enough  for  one  night.  I  probably  turned  in  my  bed  a 
hundred  times,  and  revolved  as  many  projects.  I  came  in 
the  end  to  no  fixed  resolution  but  this :  I  will  follow  the 
leading  of  circumstances.  They  shall  see  that  a  well  prin- 
cipled, and  well  educated  young  man  will  never  swerve, 
for  a  moment,  from  the  conduct  prompted  by  integrity  and 
self-respect.  If  these  will  not  allow  me  to  remain  here,  I 
will  join  my  company  when  they  come  here,  and  return 
to  my  own  country.  On  this  resolution  I  fell  asleep.  I 
am  not  sure  of  my  dreams;  but  I  think  I  fancied  Dona 
Isabel  telling  her  parents  that  I  was  much  to  be  preferred 
to  Don  De  OH. 


64  Robert  Gordon. 


CHAPTER  VI. 
THE  CONDE'S  PROPOSITION. 

As  soon  as  I  was  placed  in  a  state  of  complete  repose,  I 
began  to  feel  all  my  weakness  and  exhaustion.  The  next 
morning  I  found  that  my  wounds  were  inflamed,  and  that 
I  was  laboring  with  fever.  I  arose  and  went  below,  but  I 
painfully  felt  that  I  must  remain  here  for  some  time  at 
least,  for  the  healing  of  my  wounds,  and  the  restoration  of 
my  exhausted  strength.  My  increased  paleness  and  indis- 
position drew  from  the  family  assembled  in  the  morning 
for  breakfast,  expressions  of  apprehension  and  concern. 
It  was  insisted  that  I  should  put  myself  under  the  care  of 
the  family  physician.  The  Condesa  manifested  a  maternal 
interest  in  my  case,  and  they  drew  from  me  a  promise  that 
I  would  confine  myself  to  the  house.  Every  member  of  the 
family,  and  all  the  strangers  who  had  come  in  to  congratu- 
late the  Conde  on  the  arrival  of  his  daughter,  vied  with 
each  other  in  demonstrations  of  the  most  flattering  regard. 
The  family  physician  prescribed.  My  wounds  were  dressed 
anew.  The  chamber  of  my  confinement  was  connected  with 
the  library.  In  it  was  a  very  considerable  collection  of 
books  in  French.  The  Conde,  his  lady,  Don  De  Oli,  and 
the  daughter,  whom  I  shall  designate,  as  she  was  called 
in  the  family,  Dona  Isabel,  were  frequently  with  me,  that  I 
might  not  suffer  from  loneliness;  and  as  all  these  spoke 


The  Conde's  Proposition.  65 

French,  I  could  at  once  enter  into  the  pleasures  of  conver- 
sation. I  was  allowed  every  day  to  descend  to  the  parlor, 
and  then  Isabel,  and  sometimes  other  young  ladies  amused 
me  with  songs,  accompanied  generally  by  the  guitar.  I 
sometimes  saw  one  person  among  them  looking  upon  me 
with  an  anxiety  more  flattering  than  all  the  rest.  The  con- 
versations often  turned  upon  the  geography  and  history  of 
Old  Spain,  and  the  revolution,  which  was  then  raging  in  all 
its  fury.  It  was  a  natural  transition  from  that  to  the 
physical  and  moral  resources  of  the  Spanish  colonies  in 
the  New  World ;  countries  so  vast  and  diversified,  and  such 
magnificence  and  sublime  features  of  natural  grandeur, 
that  the  very  description  of  them  is  poetry.  The  Mexican 
Empire,  they  represented  as  richer  in  natural  resources, 
than  any  other  country ;  and  they  dwelt  with  gloomy  fore- 
bodings upon  its  ulterior  prospects.  They  asserted  that 
the  seeds  of  disorganization  and  rebellion  were  thickly 
sown  over  its  whole  surface,  and  they  anticipated  a  terrible 
harvest,  similar  to  that  which  was  then  reaping  in  Old 
Spain  and  in  Spanish  South  America.  It  was  obvious  that 
they  were  all  staunch  royalists,  and  bitter  enemies  to  every 
form  of  republican  government.  It  may  be  supposed,  that 
they  could  not  be  so  ignorant  of  my  country,  and  its  pres- 
ent condition,  as  not  to  view  it  with  no  small  portion  of 
jealousy.  They  rightly  appreciated  its  growing  greatness, 
resources  and  power.  And  they  evidently  had  a  great 
dread  of  our  disposition  to  spread  our  principles  among 
their  people.  For  the  rest,  they  had  been  accustomed  to 
consider  us  a  nation  of  peddlers  and  sharpers,  immoder- 
ately addicted  to  gain,  and  sordid  to  the  last  degree;  that 
we  were  without  models  of  noble  and  chivalrous  feelings; 
in  short,  a  kind  of  fierce  and  polished  savages,  whose  laws 
and  institutions  were  graduated  solely  with  a  view  to 
gain.  They  expressed  an  earnest  hope  that  a  man,  who 


66  Robert  Gordon. 

could  have  been  reared,  as  they  supposed,  with  no  settled 
principles  in  morals,  politics  or  religion,  might,  without 
abandoning  preconceived  opinions,  be  imbued  with  the 
dogmas  of  the  Spanish  regime  and  the  Catholic  Church; 
and  become  an  adopted  son  of  the  country. 

For  a  man  to  know  the  force  of  his  patriotism,  it  is 
necessary  that  he  should  be  in  a  foreign  country,  and  hear 
his  own  villified.  I  felt  the  rising  warmth,  and  was  obliged 
to  repress  it,  in  order  to  answer  with  moderation  and  de- 
corum. I  said  to  them,  that  the  less  informed  classes  in 
our  country  thought  of  the  Spanish,  not  precisely  as  they 
appeared  to  think  of  us,  but,  if  possible,  with  more  and 
deeper  contempt;  but  that  all  the  informed  classes  felt 
and  appreciated  the  Spanish  character.  I  was  sorry  to 
see  the  same  prejudice  here,  which,  in  our  country,  existed 
only  among  the  lowest  of  the  people.  "I  am  not  going," 
I  observed,  "to  answer  and  refute  in  detail  all  the  charges 
which  you  have  brought  against  us.  It  is  true,  in  reply 
to  the  sweeping  charge  of  avarice,  that  we  are  a  money 
getting  people;  and,  unfortunately  for  you,  your  country 
has  taken  an  example  of  ours,  only  the  people  whose  sole 
business  abroad  is  to  make  money.  These  men,  perhaps, 
carry  the  desire  of  acquisition  to  avarice  and  passion. 
But  it  is  by  no  means,  as  you  suppose,  an  universal  trait. 
No  country,  according  to  its  wealth,  much  less  according 
to  its  age,  has  so  many  noble  public  and  private  charities. 
There  is  no  country  in  which  so  much  indulgence  is 
shown  to  beggars,  in  which  the  poor  have  so  much  consid- 
eration, and  whose  regulations  furnish  them  with  so  much 
comfort.  Acts  of  private  generosity  are  not  so  apt  to  be 
blazoned  there,  for  the  very  reason  that  they  are  common, 
and  that  they  who  perform  them  feel  that  they  are  only 
acting  in  common  with  a  multitude  of  others,  and  shrink 
from  public  applause.  If  you  would  know  whether  we 


The  Conde's  Proppsition.  67 

have  the  spirit  of  public  munificence  among  us,  you  must 
see,  as  I  have  seen,  our  public  buildings,  and  our  works 
of  public  utility  and  comfort  in  our  cities.  To 
judge  if  we  are  a  happy  people,  you  must  traverse, 
as  I  have  done,  the  Union  from  one  extreme  to  the 
other,  and  see  everywhere  the  increasing  .comfort, 
knowledge  and  opulence  of  ten  millions  of  people, 
among  whom  property,  equal  rights,  comfortable  ex- 
istence, contentment,  cheerfulness,  and  hope  are,  as  I 
believe,  more  generally  and  plentifully  diffused,  than 
among  any  other  people  of  the  same  number  on  the  globe. 
You  suppose  that  there  are  among  us  no  pursuits  but 
those  dictated  by  avarice.  If  my  books  were  here  from 
the  Comanche  valley,  I  could  read  to  you  a  thousand  mani- 
fest proofs  from  our  history  to  the  contrary.  I  would  refer 
you  to  the  great  mass  of  that  very  class  of  people  that  has 
given  you  such  impressions  of  our  sordidness  and  avarice, 
the  sailors.  The  annals  of  no  age  or  country  can  furnish 
a  more  general  and  striking  contempt  of  money,  and  of 
everything  but  glory,  a  more  entire  disregard  of  every  mean 
and  sordid  motive,  and  even  of  life  itself,  than  the  history 
of  our  marine  in  all  our  wars.  There  is  no  other  country 
where  a  miser  is  regarded  with  more  contempt,  and  a 
rich  man,  merely  as  such,  with  less  respect.  Nothing  blasts 
the  reputation  sooner,  than  to  be  reputed  the  slave  of 
avarice.  We  are  reputed,  beyond  the  seas,  and  by  many 
of  the  bigoted  and  prejudiced  of  the  parent  country,  to 
be  destitute  of  all  taste  for  the  fine  arts  and  literature,  and 
even  the  dawning  of  patronage  and  literary  munificence. 
As  regards  the  first,  I  say  nothing  of  the  models  in  the 
fine  arts,  which  are  already  collected  in  Philadelphia  and 
the  other  cities.  That  we  produce  our  full  share  of  the 
materials  of  excellence  in  the  fine  arts,  let  the  facts  attest, 
that  more  than  an  equal  proportion  of  the  distinguished 


68  Robert  Gordon. 

British  painters  of  the  last  age,  and  the  promising  geniuses 
of  the  present,  were,  and  are  natives  of  the  United  States. 
Literature  receives  in  our  country  a  more  ample  patron- 
age than  it  does  in  any  other  country.  As  regards  our 
growth  in  improvements  in  another  point  of  view,  the 
facilities  of  travel  and  communication,  it  would  be  invid- 
ious to  compare  our  country  with  yours.  But  in  this  re- 
spect we  may  boldly  challenge  comparison  with  any  coun- 
try on  the  globe.  Steamboats  connect  in  easy,  rapid  and 
pleasant  communication,  a  thousand  leagues  of  our  western 
waters.  There  are  hundreds  that  traverse  them  in  every 
direction.  The  streams,  lakes,  arms  of  the  sea,  and  the 
different  points  along  the  Atlantic  shore  are  all  traversed 
by  them.  These  boats,  the  canals,  the  public  roads,  the 
places  of  resort  for  amusement  or  health,  present  a  moving 
mass  of  well-dressed,  civil  and  apparently  happy  travelers. 
Compared  with  the  leprous  and  the  rabble  of  your  cities, 
the  whole  population  of  the  cities  and  the  country  with  us 
would  be  deemed  of  the  higher  order.  It  is  true,  we  have 
no  nobility,  no  titled  and  privileged  class.  These  things 
rest  with  us  upon  the  base  where  nature,  reason,  common 
sense  and  wise  arrangement  have  placed  them,  upon  per- 
sonal merit.  But  if  you  imagine  we  have  no  scale  by 
which  to  estimate  the  difference  between  the  wise  and  good, 
the  ignorant  and  vile,  you  greatly  mistake.  The  homage 
which  we  pay  to  talent,  virtue  and  public  service  is  heart- 
felt, and  paid  so  much  the  more  cheerfully,  as  it  is  not 
levied  as  a  tax,  and  is  very  different  from  the  forced  ob- 
servance which  is  awarded  to  the  titled  rank  on  the  claims 
of  prescription.  In  the  presence  of  the  father  confessor 
it  would,  perhaps,  be  considered  indecorous  to  compare  our 
worship  with  yours.  I  will  only  say,  that  in  the  region 
where  I  was  reared,  it  has  been  conceded,  that  a  greater 
proportion  of  the  people  attend  public  worship  as  a  habit, 


The  Conde's  Proposition.  69 

than  in  any  other  country.  Religion  has  more  influence, 
fewer  crimes  are  committed,  and  there  are  fewer  public 
executions  than  elsewhere.  In  short,  the  whole  country 
presents  such  a  spectacle  of  order,  quiet  and  peaceable  in- 
dustry, and  regular  advancement  of  every  kind,  as  I  firmly 
believe,  is  not  to  be  seen  in  an  equal  degree  in  any  other 
country.  You  should  see  before  you  condemn  us.  I  regret 
to  find  among  the  highest  and  most  intelligent  here,  the 
same  prejudices  and  unfounded  impressions,  which  only 
exist  among  us  in  the  lower  orders  of  our  people." 

The  boldness  and  the  hardihood  of  my  harangue,  if  not 
its  eloquence  and  truth,  astonished  them.  If  it  did  not 
produce  conviction  and  a  higher  estimation  of  my  country, 
it  did  not  seem  to  diminish  their  respect  for  one,  who  dared 
so  frankly  to  compare  it  with  others.  I  thought  I  had 
produced  an  effect  on  the  mother  and  her  daughter.  The 
Conde  only  remarked,  that  of  the  few  inhabitants  of  the 
States  that  he  had  seen,  they  were  all  in  the  habit  of  vaunt- 
ing their  own  country.  The  father  confessor  mused,  made 
the  sign  of  the  cross,  and  left  the  room.  It  was  evident 
from  the  expression  of  Don  De  OH  that  he  regarded  me 
with  disdain. 

Nothing  material  occurred  in  my  history  for  some  days. 
My  wounds  were  healing.  My  color  and  strength  returned. 
I  foresaw  that  ill  health  would  soon  serve  me  no  longer  as 
a  pretext  to  stay  in  this  family.  As  my  health  returned, 
I  saw  Dona  Isabel  less  frequently,  and  there  was  a  visible 
anxiety  in  her  countenance.  Don  De  Oli  took  no  pains  to 
disguise  his  haughtiness  and  dislike  for  me.  As  was 
natural,  recurrence  was  often  made  to  the  deliverance  of 
Dona  Isabel.  He  invariably  took  occasion,  speaking  in 
Spanish,  which  I  began  to  understand,  to  treat  the  whole 
affair  as  a  mere  trivial  matter,  very  common  in  their  his- 
tory; intimating  always,  that,  with  such  an  incentive  as 


7o  Robert  Gordon. 

the  liberation  of  the  lady  in  question,  none  but  the  most 
worthless  poltroon  could  have  failed  to  do  the  same. 

I  had  leisure  during  this  confinement  to  study  all  the 
principal  members  of  the  family.  All  the  thoughts  of  the 
Conde  seemed  to  be  engrossed  in  arranging  the  affairs  of 
his  government,  and  repressing  the  incipient  spirit  of  re- 
publicanism, in  which  he  seemed  to  have  had  great  success. 
But  although  everything  of  that  kind  appeared  to  be  re- 
pressed for  the  moment,  the  anxious  look  of  the  governor 
was  in  perfect  accordance  with  his  declaration  that  this 
spirit  in  the  people  was  as  coals  buried  under  the  ashes, 
and  he  predicted  that  the  flames  would  soon  break  forth 
again.  He  incidentally  mentioned  that  he  looked  upon 
Don  De  Oli  as  one  of  the  most  efficient  props  of  his  govern- 
ment, and  his  future  son-in-law.  But  he  appeared  too 
much  occupied  to  bestow  any  particular  attention  to  his 
private  concerns. 

The  Condesa  still  retained  traces  of  beauty.  She  pos- 
sessed great  talents,  and  her  conversations  were  rich  and 
interesting.  Her  eye  either  flashed  with  intelligence,  or 
melted  with  tenderness.  In  her  deportment  there  seemed 
nothing  manifested  toward  me  but  marked  and  unequivo- 
cal partiality  and  even  tenderness.  The  father  confessor, 
whom  they  called  by  the  name  of  Jerome,  was  a  priest 
of  high  standing  in  the  country;  had  been  educated  in 
Eome,  and  had  all  the  external  suavity  of  a  courtier.  His 
form  was  noble,  his  voice  deep  and  impressive,  and  every 
function  of  his  ministry  performed  with  an  indescribable 
grace.  Seen  at  a  distance,  he  inspired  respect,  but  con- 
templated more  closely,  there  was  something  in  him  re- 
pressing to  confidence  and  affection.  He  regarded  the 
spirit  of  the  age,  the  fermenting  germs  of  republicanism, 
and  the  slightest  beginnings  of  innovation  in  the  Catholic 
hierarchy,  with  a  deep  aversion,  that  savored  rather  of 


The  Conde's  Proposition.  71 

hatred  than  prejudice  of  education.  He  was  hitter  even 
to  persecution,  for  retaining  every  jot  and  tittle  of  his 
faith.  He  regarded  me  with  jealousy  and  distrust,  for 
which  I  could  hardly  account,  even  on  the  score  of  our 
difference  of  opinion. 

The  only  time  I  saw  the  countenance  of  Dona  Isabel 
wholly  free  from  anxiety,  and  her  manner  toward  me  as 
it  had  been  at  the  first  was  on  the  evening  when  she  came 
into  the  library  during  my  confinement,  leading  up  to  me, 
and  introducing  with  mock  gravity  her  duenna.  "Have 
you  ever  read  a  translated  Spanish  romance  ?"  said  she ;  "if 
you  have,  permit  me  to  show  you  the  identical  character, 
called  a  duenna.  This  is  Dona  Marie,  an  ancient  friend  of 
the  family,  whose  duty  it  is  to  keep  wild  and  perverse 
young  persons,  like  myself,  for  instance,  in  the  right  way. 
She  has  the  hundred  eyes  of  Argus,  and  the  incorruptible 
watchfulness  of  the  dragon  that  guarded  the  golden  fleece. 
She  is  as  hard  as  adamant,  and  is  as  little  exposed  to  melt- 
ing as  platina.  So  you  see  how  little  danger  there  is  that 
I  should  be  allowed  to  act  naughtily,  even  if  I  would ;  and] 
how  little  chance  there  is  that  I  should  bestow  my  poor 
hand  unworthily."  I  could  with  difficulty  restrain  my 
laughter,  when  I  looked  upon  the  personage  who  sustained 
such  a  grave  office.  She  was  round,  short  and  plump; 
dressed  in  a  short  cotton  jacket,  which  showed  her  fat  and 
joyous  figure  to  a  wonderful  advantage.  Good  nature 
laughed  in  her  gray  eyes  and  in  her  ruddy  face,  which 
was  almost  an  exact  circle.  It  was  obvious  that  she  had 
availed  herself  as  faithfully  of  good  eating  and  drinking, 
and  that  she  was  disposed  to  allow  others  to  follow  their 
inclinations  in  these  and  all  respects.  There  was  some- 
thing irresistibly  ludicrous  in  supposing  such  a  person  set 
as  a  guard  over  such  a  young  lady  as  Dona  Isabel.  She 
sustained  the  gravity  of  her  office  but  a  moment.  She 


72  Robert  Gordon. 

laughed  and  caressed  her  young  mistress,  and  was  gay  and 
voluble,    and    as    she    spoke    in    Spanish,    Isabel    trans- 
lated for  me  into   French,   with  true   Spanish  gravity. 
She   began   by    describing    the    sorrow    when    her    dear 
young    mistress    was    first    carried    off    by    the    sav- 
ages,   how    many    masses    were    offered    aud    prayers 
eaid    for    her    return;    how    earnestly    she    had    sup- 
plicated the  Virgin  on  her  account,  and  how  long  she  had 
abstained  from  flesh  and  wine,  under  a  vow  for  her  return ; 
that,  for  her  part,  if  she  had  been  a  man,  and  a  soldier, 
like  Don  De  Oli,  she  would  have  set  out  alone,  if  none 
would  have  gone  with  her,  to  fight  the  savages  for  her 
rescue.    "You  are  the  man  for  me;  for  you,  that  are  not 
of  her  country  or  religion,  fought  for  her,  while  the  Don 
was  here  at  home,  mourning  and  talking  about  her.     I 
have  no  doubt  that  he  would  murder  you  at  once,  if  he 
thought  you  capable  of  looking  at  her  with  the  eyes  of 
love.     But  I  learned  many  years  ago  from  my  mother 
that  love  will  go  where  it  will.    For  my  part,  I  never  saw 
two  persons  look  so  much  alike  as  you  two."     Here  the 
young  lady  blushed  deeply,  and  ceased  to  translate.     But 
I  understood  almost  every  word,  and  what  I  did  not  under- 
stand her  laughing  eyes  and  significant  gestures  supplied. 
She  turned  to  the  young  lady.     "See  now,"  said  she,  "how 
he  blushes !     Who  would  think  that  such  a  blushing  and 
handsome  boy  could  attack  and  conquer  one  of  those  terri- 
ble savages?    I  have  seen  these  heretics  before.     They 
have  the  finest  twinkling  eyes  and  ruddy  cheeks,  and,  I 
have  heard,  they  are  sad  fellows  among  the  ladies." 

She  seemed  sufficiently  disposed  to  proceed  in  the  same 
style,  but  her  young  mistress  interposed,  and  suddenly  re- 
suming her  countenance  of  care,  she  appeared  to  make  an 
effort  in  addressing  me.  "We  have  had  enough  of  this/' 
said  she,  "now  we  will  have,  if  you  please,  one  word  of 


The  Conde's  Proposition.  73 

seriousness.  You  cannot  be  surprised  that  I  have  some 
interest  in  you,  and  that  I  can  readily  imagine  how  anxious 
you  must  be  to  have  some  pursuit  and  employment.  I 
have  been  told  that  all  the  young  men  of  your  country 
feel  this  way.  Different  as  our  modes  of  thinking  are,  I 
respect  such  feelings.  We  are  preparing  to  depart  for 
Durango.  We  cannot  be  at  home  here.  My  mother  has 
expressed  a  decided  wish  that  you  should  accompany  us. 
You  will  receive  a  visit  from  my  father,  proposing  terms 
of  honorable  employment  with  us.  Will  you  deem  it  for- 
wardness or  gratitude  in  me,  if  I  add  my  wishes  to 
those  of  my  mother,  that  these  terms  may  prove  acceptable 
to  you?  In  giving  utterance  to  the  purest  and  simplest 
of  my  feelings,  I  am  sure  that  you  are  too  noble,  too  gen- 
erous, to  misinterpret  me.  You  have  youth,  intelligence, 
learning ;  everything  to  fit  you  for  such  a  theater  to  which 
our  unhappy  country  is  coming.  My  father  foresees,  and 
it  is  easy  to  foresee,  the  murky  clouds  of  change  and  re- 
bellion rising  on  all  sides  of  our  horizon ;  and  the  times  call 
for  wise  heads,  strong  hands,  and  true  hearts.  I  am  sure 
that  our  house  needs  them.  For  we  have  the  patriots  on 
one  side,  and  my  father  has  enemies  and  competitors  even 
among  the  royalists,  and  he  has  found,  by  sad  experience, 
that  all  is  hollow  and  false  on  every  side.  What  a  noble 
career  opens  for  a  man  like  you!  When  my  mother  ex- 
pressed the  wish  that  you  might  remain  with  us,  she  re- 
marked what  a  soothing  tranquillity  she  should  derive 
from  knowing  that  one  true  and  determined  heart  would 
be  always  near  us."  Much  more  of  a  similar  import  was 
said,  and  having  thus  prepared  me  for  the  visit  of  her 
father,  she  left  me  and  the  fat  and  laughing  duenna  wad- 
dled after  her. 

Soon  after  the  Conde  entered,  with  something  more  of 
state  and  gravity  than  usual  on  his  brow.     He  began  by 


74  Robert  Gordon. 

congratulating  me  on  my  evident  restoration  to  health. 
"The  physician,"  he  added,  "assures  us  that  your  wounds 
are  so  healed  that  you  may  safely  go  abroad.  I  have 
happily  completed  the  business  that  brought  me  from 
home  to  this  distant  and  inconvenient  sojourn.  I  now 
1  propose  to  return.  I  know  not  the  cause  of  your  residence 
among  the  Comanches.  I  have  understood  that  you  be- 
longed to  a  party  from  the  States,  whose  object  was  to 
traffic  with  the  Indians.  You  probably  know  in  what 
light  we  look  upon  those  engaged  in  such  expeditions,  but 
we  hold  you  a  noble  exception.  I  will  not  disguise  from 
you  that  I  might  excite  suspicion  by  what  I  am  abont  to 
propose  to  you.  You  are  aware  in  what  light  we  view  your 
country  and  religion.  But  we  have  inquired  respecting  you 
of  the  Comanches,  and  of  the  officer  and  soldiers  who  saw 
you  in  the  valley.  Even  the  savages  do  you  justice  in  the 
affair  with  Watook,  by  which  my  daughter  was  liberated. 
They  say  you  only  anticipated  the  vengeance  which  they 
would  have  inflicted  upon  him  for  his  treason.  They  waive 
all  claims  to  the  ransom,  and  admit  that  you  did  right  in 
taking  it  in  your  own  hands.  That  sum,  the  half  of  which 
was  delivered  into  my  hands  with  my  daughter,  together 
with  the  effects  of  Watook,  is  a  considerable  fortune.  It 
was  forever  lost  to  me,  and,  in  comparison  to  my  daughter, 
never  took  up  a  single  thought.  That  is  fairly  and  decid- 
edly yours,  and  I  am  now  ready  to  pay  it  over  to  you. 
But  that  is  not  all.  It  is  impossible  that  I  can  ever  think 
of  releasing  myself  from  the  debt  of  obligation  to  you. 
I  can  show  you  that  I  wish  to  do  what  is  in  my  power,  and 
I  will  come  to  the  point.  The  Condesa  wishes  you,  if  your 
object  is  to  become  acquainted  with  our  country,  to  remain 
in  my  family,  where  you  will  have  access  to  all  official 
information,  and  will  have  every  chance  to  gain  this  infor- 
mation. That  you  may  feel  justified  in  the  possession  of 


The  Conde's  Proposition'.  75 

an  employment,  if  you  will  converse  with  the  father  con- 
fessor, and  allow  him  to  rectify  the  errors  of  your  under- 
standing in  regard  to  religion  and  our  faith,  and  pledge 
your  fealty  to  my  government  and  our  king,  I  will  im- 
mediately give  you  a  commission  of  captain  in  the  regi- 
ment of  Don  De  Oli  in  our  army."  He  waited  for  my 
reply. 


76  Robert  Gordon. 


CHAPTEE  VII. 

AN  ACCEPTABLE  POSITION. 

I  THANKED  him  for  interesting  himself  in  my  welfare. 
I  assured  him  that  I  should  be  pleased,  if  it  were  in  my 
power,  consistently,  to  accompany  him  and  his  family  to 
Durango.  I  told  him  that  I  had  not  had  any  very  definite 
views  in  my  journey  to  the  Comanches;  that  I  had  been 
inclined  to  be  a  roving  youth;  that  so  far  as  it  was  clear 
about  my  motives,  a  disposition  to  wander  and  see  new 
regions  was  the  first,  and  money  a  secondary  consideration ; 
that  if  it  came  by  any  honorable  enterprise  and  exertion,  I 
understood  the  value  of  it;  that  in  attempting  the  release 
of  his  daughter,  I  was  conscious  that  my  motives  were 
unmixed  with  any  base  alloy  of  that  sort,  and  that  to  put 
the  thing  out  of  doubt  that  it  was  so,  the  success  of  that 
action  should  be  my  only  reward,  and  that  I  hoped  he  would 
not  hurt  my  feelings  by  ever  proposing  any  others ;  that  I 
should  be  happy  to  converse  with  the  father  confessor,  and 
should  treat  him  with  the  respect  due  to  his  office,  but  that 
my  opinions  in  regard  to  religion  and  morals  were  probably 
fixed  unalterably,  and  that  it  was  as  probable  that  I  might 
think  of  converting  the  father  to  my  views  as  that  he  should 
bend  mine  to  his;  that,  to  the  last  proposition,  I  could 
only  say,  that  in  a  cause  that  was  consonant  with  my  feel- 
ings and  principles,  no  profession  would  be  more  congenial 


An  Acceptable  Position.  77 

than  to  bear  arms,  and  that  nothing  would  delight  me  more 
than  to  be  provided  with  any  honorable  pursuit  in  his 
family;  but  that  no  consideration,  not  even  the  desire  to 
remain  with  him,  could  induce  me  to  draw  a  sword  in 
favor  of  the  claims  of  Spain  upon  any  part  of  Spanish 
America. 

He  heard  me  to  the  close  with  patience  and  dignity. 
He  seemed  rather  surprised  than  offended,  as  I  feared  he 
would  be,  with  my  rejection  of  his  offers.  "There  is,  in 
truth,"  said  he,  "among  your  people  of  all  classes,  a  Spar- 
tan stubbornness,  that  I,  as  a  soldier,  know  how  to  appre- 
ciate. But  your  refusal  of  money  is,  indeed,  utterly  unlike 
what  I  expected  from  one  of  your  country,  and  I  think 
it  out  of  place  in  the  present  instance.  Your  republican- 
ism I  can  pardon.  I  love  a  man  not  the  less  for  being  true 
to  his  country.  As  in  regards  to  your  faith  I  well  know 
that  we  cannot  change  it  when  we  will.  All  I  request  of 
you  with  respect  to  the  father  confessor,  I  am  sure  you  will 
grant,  and  that  is,  the  deference  due  to  his  character  and 
office.  He  is  a  wise  and  learned  man.  I  am  not  dis- 
satisfied with  your  inflexibility  of  character.  I  wish  to 
retain  you  in  my  family.  The  man  who  is  true  and  un- 
changing in  so  many  points  will  be  true  to  whatever  con- 
fidence I  may  repose  in  him.  I  hope  we  shall  persuade 
you  to  go  with  us." 

"Show  me  any  useful  and  honorable  occupation,"  I  re- 
plied, "and  I  will  go  with  the  greatest  pleasure.  I  think, 
too,  that  you  might  count  on  my  fidelity.  Never,  since  I 
left  my  native  place,  have  I  seen  the  family  where  I  could 
feel  so  happy  to  remain,  if  I  might  do  it,  and  be  useful 
and  retain  self-respect."  "There  is  one  thing  more,"  he 
replied,  "that  strikes  me  upon  this  subject.  I  will  consider 
that  point  with  my  family,  and  converse  with  you  again 
upon  this  subject  before  my  departure." 


78  Robert  Gordon. 

I  had  in  this  family  an  unknown,  but  faithful  friend 
in  an  Irish  Catholic  servant  named  Fergus  O'Reilly.  He 
had  been  absent,  it  seems,  and  he  now  introduced  himself 
to  me  with  a  box  of  books,  which,  it  appeared,  had  been 
brought  for  me  by  the  Spanish  officer,  who  had  been  sent 
to  escort  back  Dona  Isabel  from  the  Comaiiche  valley. 
Osuna  had  collected  these,  my  drawings,  and  everything 
that  appertained  to  me,  and,  together  with  a  letter  from 
the  captain  of  our  party  to  the  Spanish  country,  had  sent 
them  on  with  the  other  baggage  to  Santa  Fe,  hoping  that 
I  would  return,  and  accept  the  honor  she  intended  me.  I 
was  struck  with  this  distinguished  kindness  to  a  recreant, 
who  seemed  so  little  capable  of  returning  it.  Fergus  laid 
down  the  box  with  a  Jow  bow,  and  I  contemplated  his 
laughing  Irish  face,  his  bright  florid  complexion  and  his 
yellow  locks  with  satisfaction,  for  I  saw  that  he  was  not 
Spanish,  and  could  probably  speak  my  native  tongue. 
"Now,"  said  he,  "beggin'  yer  honor's  pardon,  spake  so 
much  as  one  leetle  word  in  the  king's  English.  It's  such  a 
weary  while  since  I  have  heard  niver  a  word  of  it."  I 
thanked  him  for  his  kindness  for  bringing  my  books,  and 
expressed  myself  pleased  to  find  a  member  of  the  family 
who  could  speak  my  mother  tongue.  "Ar'n't  ye  the  jewel, 
now?"  said  he.  "It's  many  the  long  year  that  I've  heard 
niver  a  word  of  that  sort  before.  Oh!  but  yer  honor  has 
the  thrue  Irish  face,  and  speaks  in  the  right  fashion.  I 
have  been  in  a  hot  fever  to  see  ye,  iver  since  I  heard 
ye  was  here.  Now,  maybe,  I  don't  know  a  thing  or  two 
about  this  family."  He  came  close  to  me,  and  let  his 
voice  fall  almost  to  a  whisper.  "Do  ye  know  what  a 
bother  they  have  been  making  about  ye  downstairs?"  He 
paused  as  if  waiting  for  me  to  ask  him  to  proceed ;  I  felt, 
it  is  true,  a  strong  curiosity  to  hear  on  what  cause  I  could 
have  been  the  theme  of  conversation.  Decorum  forbade 


An  Acceptable  Position.  79 

me  to  gratify  that  curiosity  by  questioning  a  servant. 
Finding  that  he  must  go  on  without  any  request,  or  be 
silent,  "Ah !"  he  proceeded,  "yer  honor  has  the  grand  way 
now,  and  I  dare  say  yer  honor  is  true  as  steel.  Well, 
then,  I  love  ye  for  yer  looks,  and  the  tongue  that  is 
in  yer  head;  and,  by  St.  Patrick,  I  love  all  that  the 
sweet  Isabel  loves,  and  if  she  don't  love  yer  honor,  there 
is  no  devil  I"  "Do  you  think  so,  my  lad  ?"  said  I.  "Ay !" 
he  returned,  "I  thought  I  could  bring  yer  honor  to  yer 
tongue.  The  sweet  Isabel  was  in  tears.  The  Conde  was 
in  a  fret.  The  good,  kind  Condesa  threw  in  as  much  for 
ye  as  she  dared.  But  there  is  father  Jerome — he  is  of 
my  father's  worship,  to  be  sure.  But  maybe  I  don't  know 
him,  for  all  his  sanctified  airs.  And  there  was  the  young 
Don,  with  his  grim  face  and  his  big  airs,  and,  devil  burn 
their  boots,  no  good  of  ye  did  they  say.  'Well,'  said  I,  'this 
man  has  my  mother's  tongue  in  his  head.  He  has  shed  his 
own  blood  to  kill  a  heathen  savage,  and  has  brought  our 
sweet  Isabel  home,  Heaven  brighten  her  two  eyes;  and  by 
those  tears  she  belikes  him/  said  I,  'or  I  don't  know  the 
taste  of  a  paratie.  The  man,'  says  I,  'I  dare  say  is  a 
pretty  man,  though  he  may  believe  neither  in  the  Virgin 
nor  St.  Patrick/  So  I  stands  yer  friend  in  my  heart.  I 
opens  both  my  ears,  and  the  more  they  told  me  to  hush  the 
more  I  remembered  every  word.  When  I  was  out,  the 
round  Doll,  the  duenna,  hears  the  rest,  and  we  both  put 
what  we  heard  together.  Jasus !  what  a  botheration  they 
made,  and  all  about  ye !  They  rumbled  it  out  in  Spanish, 
but  Doll  and  I  heard  every  word."  Here  he  paused,  in 
hopes  now  to  have  raised  my  curiosity  enough  to  ask  him 
to  proceed.  I  was  determined  to  leave  him  to  himself,  to 
speak  or  be  silent,  though  I  saw  no  harm  in  hearing  what 
he  had  to  say.  "Now,  only  look,"  said  he.  "Yer  honor 
burns  to  hear,  but  says  niver  a  word.  Ye  shall  hear  all. 


8o  Robert  Gordon. 

The  Conde  said  ye  talked  big,  and  that  all  yer  people 
are  as  stiff  as  asses.  But  it  raised  yer  honor  mightily  in 
all  their  eyes,  that  ye  would  have  none  of  the  money. 
The  Conde  stuck  to  it  against  them  all  that  ye  were  no 
common  mon,  and  he  swears  his  biggest  Spanish  oath,  that 
he  believes  ye  a  true  rale  jantleman.  The  father  con- 
fessor, roast  him !  said  he  thought  ye  an  Orangeman,  and 
a  bad  heretic,  and  so  much  the  worse  that  ye  was  know- 
ing, and  was  handsome  enough  to  pervert  all  the  young 
ladies  in  the  region.  How  much  has  he  swayed  the 
Condesa  and  her  daughter  already !  Then  he  commanded 
them  in  the  name  of  the  holy  mother  to  discard  ye  from 
their  thoughts.  They  both  looked  so  sweet  in  his  cross 
face,  devil  roast  him,  and  begged  him  not  to  think  it  a 
sin,  that  they  esteemed  ye  for  yer  valor  and  truth. 
'And  these/  said  he,  in  his  deep  voice,  and  looking  this 
fashion,  'and  these  are  just  the  baits  by  which  the  devil 
lures  away  the  hearts  o£  the  faithful  in  the  form  of  heresy.' 
The  young  Don  bounced  about  the  while,  like  a  roasted 
chestnut,  and  said  that  yer  honor  had  tried  to  steal  away 
the  heart  of  the  sweet  Isabel.  And  then  her  eyes  sparkled 
as  though  she  would  have  lighted  upon  him,  and  then  she 
told  him  that  ye  was  all  truth  and  honor,  and  as  incapable 
of  trying  to  do  that  as  she  was  to  allow  it;  and  that  ye 
had  too  much  courage  and  generosity  to  abuse  the  absent. 
Then  he  was  cross  back  again,  and  said,  'That  is  the  way 
the  fellow  inveigles  ye  all  with  his  big  airs,'  and  that 
he  meant  to  call  ye  out  and  teach  ye  the  difference  be- 
tween fightin'  a  Christian  jantleman  and  a  poor  Indian. 
At  this  word  Isabel  brushed  away  her  tears,  and  maybe 
she  didn't  give  him  a  look !  'Very  likely,  Don  De  Oli,  ye 
may  think  that  would  be  the  way  to  raise  yerself  in  my 
esteem.  It  would  be  quite  the  pretty  turn  to  the  only 
man  who  dared  expose  himself  to  rescue  me  from  a  condi- 


An  Acceptable  Position.  81 

tion  worse  than  death/  And  then  she  drew  up  grand — 
this  way — and  she  looked  wild,  and  her  eyes  glistened,  the 
jewel.  And  she  says,  'Now  hear  me  all.  I  know  that  my 
father  is  too  great  and  noble  to  be  set  against  a  man  who 
has  done  so  much  for  me,  by  any  of  ye.  I  have  my 
father's  spirit  in  me.  Treat  him  badly,  and  ye  will  make 
me  love  him.  I  owe  my  father  deference  and  obedience, 
but  none  of  ye  can  command  the  heart.'  Yer  honor,  I 
remember  every  word.  And  then  she  went  on  to  say  she 
would  make  any  vow,  never  to  think  of  yer  honor,  but  if 
they  drove  ye  away  from  a  family  that  owed  ye  so  much 
she  would  hate  Don  De  Oli  forever,  and  that  it  would  go 
farther  to  make  her  a  heretic  than  anything  else.  All  this 
while  the  sweet  girl  had  been  screwed  up,  and  then  she 
burst  into  an  agony  of  tears,  and  I  knew  not  what  hap- 
pened, for  they  drove  me  out  of  the  room.  But  the  round 
Doll  says  that  the  Conde  sniveled,  the  Condesa  cried,  and 
that  Don  De  Oli  and  the  father  were  glad  to  clear  them- 
selves, and  so  yer  honor  seems  to  have  had  the  day  among 
them.  God  love  yer  honor  for  speaking  English,  and 
looking  like  an  Irishman.  And  what  do  you  think  the 
Condesa  says?  She  says,  'Fergus,  I  think  he  will  go 
with  us,  and  if  he  does,  Fergus,  ye  shall  be  his  servant.'  'J 
At  supper,  as  Fergus  had  related,  every  face  was  sad  or 
clouded.  The  Condesa  and  her  daughter  made  efforts  to 
seem  calm,  and  as  though  nothing  had  happened.  But  the 
traces  of  the  recent  storm  were  sufficiently  visible  in  the 
countenances  of  the  rest.  After  supper  I  was  left  alone 
with  the  Conde.  He  resumed  the  former  conversation, 
apparently  with  cordiality.  "I  have  been  thinking,"  said 
he,  "of  your  wish  to  find  employment,  and  of  your  ex- 
pressed willingness  to  reside  in  my  family.  It  occurred 
to  me  and  to  the  Condesa  that  there  is  such  here,  and 
just  such  as  fits  the  case.  Let  me  premise  one  thing:  My 


82  Robert  Gordon. 

'daughter  is  young,  ardent,  inexperienced,  and  destined 
for  Don  De  Oli.  We  have  all,  her  mother,  my  daughter, 
myself,  an  entire  confidence  in  you.  She  has  seemed  more 
backward  in  meeting  our  views  there  than  I  could  have 
wished.  I  have  but  this  one,  and  she  is  the  light  of  my 
eyes.  I  would  be  glad  not  to  force  her  inclinations. 
Women  are  naturally  wilful.  She  leads  us  to  think  that 
kindness  to  you  will  be  the  readiest  way  to  bring  her  in- 
clinations to  this  union.  You  will  understand  our  views, 
and  if  you  cannot  further  them  we  confide  in  your  honor 
that  you  will  not  impede  them.  Thus  much  premised  I 
will  proceed :  Some  time  ago  we  made  inquiries  for  a  person 
suitably  qualified  for  an  instructor  in  English.  My 
daughter  is  well  versed  in  French  and  Latin,  and  has  long 
wished  to  add  English  to  her  acquirements.  There  are 
some  other  young  ladies  in  Durango,  associates  of  my 
daughter,  who  will  join  to  form  a  class,  and  Don  De  Oli 
will  be  of  the  number.  The  time,  mode  and  compensation 
shall  be  settled  by  yourself.  Will  you  consent  to  take 
charge  of  such  a  class?"  I  thanked  him,  and  told  him 
that  at  first  view  it  seemed  precisely  the  employment  which 
I  should  have  chosen,  and  that  I  wished  only  the  succeed- 
ing night  for  consideration,  and  would  give  him  an  answer 
in  the  morning. 

The  evening  was  one  of  preparation,  for  the  family  pro- 
posed to  commence  their  journey  for  Durango  the  next. 
day.  A  royal  regiment  of  troops  in  fine  uniforms  and 
discipline  had  arrived  from  Durango  and  had  pitched  their 
tents  on  the  square,  as  an  escort  for  the  Conde  on  his 
journey.  The  militia  of  the  country  had  been  pouring  into 
the  town  during  the  afternoon.  They  were  fantastically 
fine  in  their  array,  and  made  more  noise  and  display  than 
the  regular  troops.  The  bugle,  the  drum  and  fife,  and 
occasionally  a  full  band  mixed  their  martial  notes.  The 


An  Acceptable  Position.  83 

hum  of  the  loungers,  who  were  idly  busy  looking  upon  this 
scene  of  preparation,  was  heard  on  all  sides.  Great  num- 
bers of  the  provincial  officers,  and  of  private  gentlemen 
with  their  families,  were  in  waiting  to  take  leave  of  the 
Conde.  Illuminations  and  refreshments  were  prepared 
for  the  occasion.  There  was  a  public  supper,  at  which  I 
sat  with  more  than  a  hundred  people.  After  supper  there 
was  a  promenade  in  the  public  garden  attached  to  the 
palace,  and  the  family  of  the  Conde  enjoyed  their  friends 
and  the  delightful  coolness  of  the  evening  in  the  garden. 
It  was  there  that  the  citizens  and  public  functionaries  were 
to  take  leave  of  the  governor.  I  received  a  card  of  invita- 
tion to  share  the  walk  with  the  family.  Every  walk  and 
alley  of  the  garden  was  occupied  by  great  numbers  of 
people.  The  garden  was  brilliantly  illuminated.  The 
varieties  of  beautiful  trees  and  shrubs,  most  of  them  new 
to  me,  with  their  luxuriant  foliage,  gilded  with  the  flicker- 
ing rays  from  a  hundred  lamps,  the  lofty  palms,  that 
mounted  into  the  air  almost  beyond  sight,  produced  a 
most  striking  effect  upon  the  eye.  The  country  has  a 
variety  of  birds  that  sing  in  the  night,  and  they  seemed 
to  enjoy  the  splendor  of  the  illumination,  and  to  swell 
their  throats  with  hilarity.  Everything  conspired  to  pro- 
duce that  train  of  sentiment  that  thrilled  every  nerve  with 
delightful,  but  melancholy  sensation.  I  know  not  why, 
but  I  thought  deeply,  almost  painfully,  of  home,  and  of 
the  circle  of  which  I  was  a  part,  and  where  I  was  of  some 
consequence.  Here  circumstances  had  established  a  kind 
of  standing  for  me ;  but  I  was  a  stranger,  endured  rather 
than  desired,  at  least  by  part  of  the  family.  Of  the 
numerous  groups  that  were  chatting,  and  walking,  and  en- 
joying themselves  in  all  the  intimacy  of  acquaintance,  I 
knew  not  one;  and  of  those  who  passed  me,  and  made  the 
inquiry  of  transient  curiosity  about  me,  it  was  sufficient 


84  Robert  Gordon. 

with  the  most  of  them  to  bound  their  interest,  to  know 
that  I  was  a  heretic,  and  an  inhabitant  of  the  States.  I 
wandered  to  the  farthest  extremity  of  the  garden,  where 
a  beautiful  little  brook  rippled  over  pebbles,  and  fell  into 
a  deep  basin  in  the  corner  of  the  garden.  In  this  basin, 
so  smooth  that  it  reflected  everything  like  a  mirror,  the 
lights  of  the  sky,  of  the  garden  and  the  moon,  over  which 
fleecy  clouds  were  sailing  with  a  gentle  breeze,  acacias  and 
catalpas,  with  their  stems  all  tufted  with  flowers,  were 
seen  shooting  into  the  still  depths  their  reflected  brightness 
and  beauty.  Here  I  seated  myself  on  a  bench  to  enjoy 
the  scene,  and  to  meditate  and  fix  my  purpose  for  the 
morrow.  My  thoughts  wandered.  Before  I  could  combine 
and  arrange  the  elements  of  the  calculation  my  thoughts 
had  escaped  a  thousand  leagues  from  the  subject  in  hand. 
To  concentrate  thought,  and  fix  the  mind,  external  nature, 
especially  if  beautiful,  must  be  excluded.  Imagination 
was  too  busy  for  reason  and  judgment.  Nature  was  too  en- 
ticing, and  the  air  too  full  of  the  ambrosia  of  the  catalpas, 
and  the  breeze  too  bland,  for  the  operation  of  painful  think- 
ing. I  fell  involuntarily  into  my  habit  of  reverie.  The 
drudgery  and  vexation  necessary  to  sustain  the  grosser 
elements  of  our  existence,  the  contemptible,  and  yet  im- 
passable barriers  erected  between  kindred  minds  by  birth, 
habit,  riches,  country,  religion,  "to  stay  or  not  to  stay"  in 
a  family  where  all  these  barriers  existed  between  me  and 
its  members,  and  where,  if  I  might  flatter  myself  that 
I  had  some  interest  with  some  of  them,  I  knew  I  was 
only  sufferance  with  the  rest,  that  was  the  question.  It 
may  be  foreseen  how  pride  and  independence  would,  per- 
haps ought  to,  settle  the  question.  There  was  another 
efficient  element  in  the  calculation,  which  had,  I  doubt 
not,  its  influence  at  that  time,  unknown  to  myself.  Vanity 
whispered  that  a  certain  member  of  the  family  betrayed, 


An  Acceptable  Position.  85 

against  herself,  a  strong  desire  that  I  should  stay.  But 
I  reflected  how  often  and  how  bitterly  would  they  make 
me  feel  that  they  considered  me  a  heretic,  poor,  and  an 
adventurer.  How  often  must  I  endure  the  insolent 
haughtiness  of  Don  De  Oli,  and  suffer  from  the  deeper 
plottings  of  the  father  confessor.  Then  the  beauty  of 
the  evening  would  withdraw  my  thoughts  from  this  painful 
subject.  I  heard  th'e  sparrow,  the  red  bird,  the  mocking 
bird,  pouring  their  little  hearts  into  their  song.  I  looked 
up  to  the  dome  of  that  great  temple  of  nature 

"The  sky, 

Spread,  like  an  ocean  hung  on  high, 
Bespangled  with  those  isles  of  light, 
So  wildly,  spiritually  bright. 
Who  ever  saw  them  brightly  shining, 
And  turn'd  to  earth  without  repining; 
Nor  wish  for  wings  to  soar  away, 
And  mix  with  their  eternal  ray?" 

As  I  applied  these  lines  in  thought  to  the  feelings  of 
the  moment,  the  Condesa  and  her  daughter,  disengaged 
from  the  company  with  whom  I  had  seen  them  walking, 
came  round  in  front  of  the  basin.  I  moved  to  resign  my 
seat  to  them.  "No,"  said  the  Condesa,  "sit  still,  and 
allow  us  to  share  your  seat,  and  the  benefit  of  your  lonely 
meditations.  It  appears  to  me  that  your  temperament 
inclines  you  too  much  to  solitude.  It  seems  wrong  that 
solicitude  and  care  should  anticipate  the  effect  of  years, 
and  touch  such  a  fresh  countenance  as  yours."  "Loneli- 
ness, madam,"  I  answered,  "is  not  painful  to  me.  But 
they  who  should  infer,  from  seeing  me  much  alone,  that  I 
was  occupied  by  profound  or  painful  thought,  would  look 
too  deep  for  the  cause.  I  would  claim  nothing  more  for 


86  Robert  Gordon. 

this  taste  than  the  simple  merit  that  belongs  to  it.  I  am, 
madam,  by  nature  a  dreamer  with  my  eyes  open.  If  I 
might  be  permitted  to  record  my  early  habits,  the  first 
pleasures  of  my  existence,  that  I  remember,  were  in  the 
vernal  and  autumnal  northeastern  storms  of  that  region 
where  I  was  bred,  when  the  wind  howled  and  the  trees 
were  bending  under  the  gale,  and  the  mist  and  sleet 
poured  along  in  sweeping  columns  to  repair,  to  the  sea 
shore,  in  the  height  of  the  storm.  Here  I  would  sit  for 
hours,  regardless  of  the  elements,  listening  to  the  roar 
of  the  winds  and  marking  the  dashing  of  the  spray  as  it 
mixed  with  the  white  mist  of  the  sky.  With  what  pleasure 
I  saw  the  billowy  mountains  roll  in  to  the  shore  and  burst 
against  the  cliffs!  And  then,  to  see  them  retire  again 
and  leave  the  deep,  black  caverns  of  the  rocks  exposed 
to  view,  and  to  watch  the  return  of  the  enormous  and 
dashing  surge — such  were  my  earliest  and  most  intense 
enjoyments.  My  friends  used  to  chide  me  for  foolish 
exposure,  or  to  pity  me  as  one  addicted  to  gloom  and  mel- 
ancholy. It  was  in  vain  that  I  told  them  that  these 
were  the  happiest  moments  of  my  life.  My  tastes  were 
not  theirs,  and  they  could  not  account  for  them.  My 
mind  at  present,  I  would  hope,  has  somewhat  enlarged 
the  range  of  thought,  and  the  number  of  its  combinations. 
But  I  am  now  as  much  addicted  to  this  dreamy  existence 
as  ever.  I  would  not  proudly  say  with  the  great  ancient, 
"Never  less  alone,  than  when  alone/'  for  I  am  not  sure 
that  this  indulgence  of  musing  and  reverie  is  favorable 
to  thinking.  I  only  know  that  it  is  favorable  to  enjoy- 
ment. I  never  flattered  myself  that  I  possessed  the  genius 
of  Rousseau,  and  I  am  sure  that  I  have  always  detested 
many  of  his  opinions.  But  when  he  tells  with  so  much 
native  simplicity  of  his  disposition  to  dream  with  his  eyes 
open,  when  he  speaks  of  committing  himself  to  his  open 


An  Acceptable  Position.  87 

skiff  on  that  sweet  lake,  throwing  himself  at  his  length 
on  its  bottom,  raising  his  eyes  to  the  sky,  and  floating  at 
the  will  of  the  breeze,  and  losing  hours  with  no  other 
recollection  than  the  pleasurable  consciousness  of  exist- 
ence, he  describes  a  taste,  absurd  as  you  may  deem  it, 
precisely  like  mine." 

"You  describe  to  me/'  she  replied,  "the  mind  of  a  very 
romantic,  but  not  a  bad  young  man.  I  have  the  more 
indulgence  for  such  follies,  as,  at  your  time  of  life,  I  was 
much  addicted  to  them  myself.  Delightful  days !  I  never 
tire  of  looking  back  upon  my  visions  when  the  world,  exist- 
ence, everything,  was  a  romance.  We  all  learn  the  differ- 
ence soon  enough,  between  the  sweet  visions  of  youth  and 
the  sad  reality  of  actual  existence."  I  replied  that  I  sus- 
pected that  there  was  a  sufficient  leaven  of  romance  in 
my  composition  to  unfit  me  for  the  hard  struggle  and  the 
dry  composition  of  actual  existence.  "I  have  been  so  often 
and  so  bitterly  reproved  for  indulging  these  dreaming 
propensities,  have  heard  the  maxim  so  often  circulated 
that  we  are  placed  on  the  earth  to  act  and  not  to  dream, 
that  I  have  ended  by  doubting  the  innocence  of  this  pro- 
pensity, and  have  striven  to  conquer  it.  If  you  say, 
madam,  that  you  have  felt  the  same  propensities,  you  will 
reconcile  me  to  myself.  It  was,  I  suspect,  the  indulgence 
of  this  original  propensity  that  brought  me  to  this  region, 
so  remote  from  my  native  country.  I  was  always  delighted 
with  books  of  voyages  and  travel.  I  sail  with  the  voyager, 
I  journey  with  the  traveler.  I  climb  with  him  over  his 
snowy  mountains,  or  enjoy  the  boundless  horizon  of  the 
plains.  I  float  down  the  river  with  the  wanderer  of  the 
Mississippi.  I  have  heard  your  daughter  quote  Chateau- 
briand. Some  passages  in  his  travels  are  to  me  of  the 
highest  order  of  poetry,  and  abundant  ailment  for  day- 
dreams. Nothing  can  be  more  delightful  than  some  of 


88  Robert  Gordon. 

those  periods,  where  he  relates  his  impressions  in  the 
midst  of  the  magnificence  and  boundlessness  of  the  savage 
nature  of  our  forests,  when  the  moon  arises  upon  them,  and 
diffuses  over  them  the  great  secret  of  melancholy.  I  will 
give  but  one  passage,  and  I  recur  to  one  that  has  scarcely 
been  named,  but  which  strikes  me  the  more.  'For  me,  a 
solitary  lover  of  nature,  and  a  simple  confessor  of  the 
Divinity,  I  have  sat  down  among  the  ruins.  A  traveler, 
unknown  to  fame,  I  have  conversed  with  these  moulder- 
ing monuments,  as  unknown  as  myself.  The  night  was  in 
the  midst  of  her  course.  Everything  was  silent,  the* 
moon,  the  wood,  and  the  tombs.  Only  at  long  intervals 
was  heard  the  fall  of  some  tree,  which  the  ax  of  time  had 
cut  down  in  the  depths  of  the  forest.  Thus  everything 
falls.  Thus  everything  turns  to  nothing.' ';  Dona  Isabel 
here  remarked,  with  some  earnestness:  "You  have  proved, 
sir,  that,  differently  as  we  have  been  bred  there  is  a  striking 
coincidence  in  our  tastes.  My  mother  knows  how  much  I 
was  delighted  with  that  very  passage.  To  me  he  says 
much.  He  often  speaks  to  my  heart.  There  are  in  it 
some  of  the  most  eloquent  passages,  and  some  of  the  most 
impressive  sentences  of  that  beautiful  prose  poetry, 
which  seems  peculiar  to  the  French.  But  I  have  yet  to 
discover  the  connection  between  this  passage,  and  that 
determination,  which  brought  you  into  our  country." 
I  answered,  "that  I  was  determined  to  converse  with 
nature  alone  in  those  prairies,  and  those  boundless 
deserts,  that  he  so  delightfully  painted  to  my  imagina- 
tion. I  could  not  hope  to  find  these  places  except  in  the 
western  regions  of  my  own  country,  and  that  part  of  yours 
contiguous  to  them.  My  journey  thus  far  has  more  than 
realized  my  imagination.  I  worshiped  in  all  the  forms  of 
nature,  from  the  swamps  of  the  Mississippi  to  the  sublime 
scenery  of  yonder  chains  of  mountains,  and  the  beautiful 


An  Acceptable  Position.  89 

valley,  in  which  dwell  the  ruthless  Comanches;  a  place 
so  exquisitely  beautiful  that  your  daughter,  under  all  the 
gloom  and  apprehension  of  her  residence  there,  felt  that 
beauty ;  to  this  place,  where  all  the  contrasts  of  social  and 
primitive  life,  of  wealth  and  poverty,  refinement  and  sim- 
plicity, are  brought  side  by  side.  Providence  has  opened 
to  me  sources  of  moral  satisfaction  in  the  chain  of  events, 
which  caused  me  to  become  acquainted  with  your  daughter, 
which  I  would  not  have  exchanged  for  any  other  the  world 
could  have  offered  me.  Come  what  will,  I  will  always 
rejoice  that  I  became  a  wanderer,  and  that  Providence  has 
brought  me  here." 

"This  brings  me,"  added  the  Condesa,  "to  the  point  that 
has  been  on  my  mind  from  the  first.  You  delight  in 
journey.  You  have  been  advised  that  we  depart  to-mor- 
row for  Durango.  It  is  a  beautiful  country  between  here 
and  there.  The  Conde  has  made  you  a  proposition  to  ac- 
company us.  You  have,  promised  him  an  answer  in  the 
morning.  May  we  not  hope  that  you  will  consent  to  go 
with  us  ?  If  I  thought  you  like  other  young  men  I  should 
not  dare  to  tell  you  how  much  I  desire  it.  The  people  in 
this  country  are  so  wild  and  ignorant,  and  at  the  present 
time  we  are  surrounded  by  so  many  enemies,  so  many 
dangers  of  every  sort,  rebellion,  treason,  and  discord,  that 
you  can  hardly  conjecture  how  my  confidence  goes  out 
toward  a  young  man,  educated,  principled,  high-minded, 
and,  to  use  Fergus'  expression,  'as  true  as  steel.'  Indeed, 
we  hope  you  will  go  with  us.  I  do  not  disguise  that  you 
will  have  to  encounter  prejudices.  But  I  have  a  presenti- 
ment that  you  will  triumph  over  all.  You  do  not  talk  of 
returning  to  your  own  country.  Ah!  you  must  feel  how 
much  you  need  a  mother.  I  will  be  that  mother  to  you. 
Could  you  but  renounce  your  errors !  Could  you  have  but 
accepted  a  commission  from  my  husband,  there  is  nothing 


90  Robert  Gordon. 

for  which  you  might  not  have  hoped.  But  heretic  and 
republican  as  you  are,  both  the  Conde  and  myself  have 
the  most  undoubting  confidence  in  you.  Only  stay  with 
us,  and  you  will  be  gradually  trained  to  our  ways  and 
finally  become  one  of  us." 

I  replied  that  if  I  were  to  consult  my  own  inclinations 
I  should  not  need  the  additional  motive  of  her  wishes,  so 
affectionately  expressed,  to  decide  me.  But  that  I  felt  all 
the  difficulties  of  religion  and  principles;  and  that  under 
such  circumstances  it  would  not  be  honorable  for  me  to 
stay  without  a  sufficient  and  respectable  employment,  that 
would  furnish  me  a  vocation  that  would  justify  me  in 
staying;  that  I  feared  that  this  proposition  to  employ 
me  to  teach  English  in  the  family  was  merely  gotten  up 
to  satisfy  me,  and  as  a  kind  of  compensation  for  supposed 
services. 

"Far  from  it,"  she  replied.  "Our  relations  with  your 
country  and  England  is  daily  increasing.  We  made  an 
effort  to  obtain  a  suitable  teacher  before  we  became 
acquainted  with  you.  It  is  no  new  fancy  of  my  daughter's 
and  mine." 

"I  perceive,"  said  Isabel,  "that  you  need  a  great  deal  of 
inducement,  and  that  we  have  to  labor  to  bring  it  about. 
But  even  at  the  hazard  of  ministering  to  your  vanity,  I 
shall  not  fear  to  add  my  wishes  to  my  mother's.  You 
have  still  been  talking  about  your  wish  to  find  employ- 
ment. You  will  not  deny  that  this  is  respectable,  nor  that 
you  are  qualified  for  it.  Let  us  hope  that  you  will  shorten 
the  matter,  and  put  an  end  to  our  suspense  and  stay. 
You  do  not  know  what  a  diligent  pupil  I  shall  be.  You 
will  have  three  charming  pupils,  besides  myself,  and  a 
fourth,  extremely  rich,  and  Don  De  Oli,  a  royal  officer, 
and  so  forth.  Besides,  if  you  will  promise  to  be  good  and 
clocile,  we  will  teach  you  our  language  in  turn." 


An  Acceptable  Position.  91 

I  replied  that  I  felt  a  strong  desire  to  see  more  of  the 
country,  and  that  no  better  opportunity  could  ever  be 
offered  me.  I  thought  I  was  competent  to  the  employment 
in  question ;  that  I  should  depend  much  upon  their  indul- 
gence to  a  stranger,  who  knew  so  little  of  their  manners, 
and  that  I  should  trust  to  their  friendship  to  put  me  right 
when  I  was  in  the  way  of  making  mistakes.  I  will  ac- 
cept and  do  the  best  I  can.  I  am  not  a  little  swayed  to 
this  decision  by  the  motive  which  Dona  Isabel  has  sug- 
gested, that  while  I  am  teaching  her  my  language  I  shall 
be  learning  hers. 

The  Condesa  added:  "In  acceding  to  my  proposition, 
you  have  removed  a  weight  of  uneasiness.  We  were  fear- 
ful that  you  would  carry  your  feelings  of  independence  to 
the  point  of  pride,  and  that  you  would  be  governed  by 
sentiments  of  self-respect  that  were  impracticable.  One 
word  more,  and  we  will  drop  the  conversation.  You  can 
readily  imagine  the  bearings  of  the  relation  which  you 
will  sustain  among  us,  and  that  all  eyes  which  will  be 
turned  upon  you  will  not  be  as  mine.  Only  calculate  at 
times  what  construction  can  be  put  upon  innocent  actions. 
For  the  rest,  it  is  precisely  because  I  have  no  fear  that 
anything  will  make  you  swerve  from  the  right  path,  that  I 
have  become  a  kind  of  guarantee  for  you  with  those  who 
have  supposed  that  it  might  be  hazardous  to  entrust  such  a 
charge  to  such  a  young  man.  You  see,  that  I  deal  with 
you  with  maternal  frankness,  and  I  have  no  fear  of  the 
result.  But  I  perceive  it  is  too  cool  for  us  to  sit  still.  Let 
us  take  a  turn  in  the  garden.  It  is  not  such  a  one  as  I 
will  show  you  at  my  own  home,  but  still  it  is  pretty,  and 
the  evening  is  delightful."  She  accepted  my  arm,  and  we 
wandered  through  the  mazes  of  the  garden,  at  every  turn 
inhaling  a  new  perfume  of  flowers,  or  taking  a  new  view, 
set  off  with  all  the  mild  and  magic  brilliancy  of  a  full  and 


92  Robert  Gordon. 

unclouded  moon.  All  restraint  was  removed  by  the  place 
and  circumstances,  and  the  recent  understanding  with  each 
other.  The  conversation,  flowing  from  the  deep  sources, 
where  restraint  and  formality  so  often  confine  it,  became 
cordial  and  frank.  We  were  getting  more  into  the  tone  of 
one  family,  when  a  message  from  a  family  of  conse- 
quence, who  wished  to  take  leave  of  the  Condesa,  called  her 
from  us,  and  left  me  alone  with  the  daughter.  It  cannot 
be  doubted  that  such  a  situation  must  have  been  to  me  a 
desirable  one.  But  I  found  myself  timid  and  silent,  for 
the  good  reason  that  nothing  occurred  for  me  to  say.  I 
had  supposed  that  I  should  be  at  least  as  fluent  as  I  had 
been  when  we  were  journeying  from  the  valley.  I  felt, 
indeed,  tied  up  by  the  inviolable  laws  of  honor  and  con- 
fidence, and  had  no  idea  of  attempting  to  make  love  to 
the  beautiful  Spanish  girl.  I  had  scarcely  searched 
whether  I  felt  an  impulse  to  do  it.  I  was  certain 
that  she  would  have  frowned  upon  any  approaches  to  such 
a  strain.  I  had  taken  it  for  granted,  that  somehow  our 
conversation  would  have  assumed  a  confidential  character. 
But  the  moment  we  were  left  alone,  amidst  jessamines  and 
roses,  and  she  leaning  on  my  arm,  alas !  I  might  say,  "My 
voice  clung  to  my  mouth."  She  now  and  then  made  a 
remark,  to  which  I  replied  by  the  monosyllable,  Yes,  or  No. 
This  soon  ceased,  and  we  walked  back  and  forward  among 
the  bowers  in  profound  silence.  We  saw  the  father  con- 
fessor and  Don  De  Oli  walking  together  at  the  head  of  the 
alley.  This  restored  speech  to  her.  "We  shall  have,  I 
hope,"  said  she,  "a  pleasant  journey  together.  Oh!  that 
it  were  to  be  like  that  from  the  valley."  Saying  this,  she 
bade  me  adieu,  and  tripped  away. 


Durango.  93 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

DURANOO. 

"The  moon  shines  bright,  and  her  silvery  light 
Through  the  forest  aisles  is  glancing; 
And  with  trembling  beam  on  the  rippling  stream 
A  thousand  stars  are  dancing. 
No  noise  is  heard,  save  the  lonely  birdf 
That  hoots  from  his  desert  dwelling; 
Or  the  distant  crash  of  some  aged  ash, 
Which  the  ax  of  time  is  felling." 

WE  were  awakened  at  three  in  the  morning  by  the  ring- 
ing of  bells,  the  blowing  of  bugles,  and  the  noise  and  bus- 
tle of  preparation  for  the  journey.  Squadrons  of  horse 
galloped  backwards  and  forwards.  I  was  aroused  by  my 
good  friend  Fergus,  who  told  me  how  glad  he  was  that  I 
was  to  go  with  them.  He  had  brought  me  a  billet  from 
the  Conde,  whom  the  Condesa  had  notified  of  my  accept- 
ance of  his  proposition,  politely  expressing  his  satisfaction 
on  that  account,  and  proposing  different  arrangements  for 
my  comfort  on  the  journey,  among  other  things,  requesting 
me  to  avail  myself  of  the  service  of  Fergus.  He,  on  his 
part,  was  in  raptures,  and  poured  out  his  expressions  with 
true  Irish  hilarity.  I  left  a  letter  for  my  companions, 


94  Robert  Gordon. 

intimating  the  course  that  I  had  taken  and  making  ar- 
rangement for  the  disposal  of  my  proportion.  I  mounted 
the  fine  horse  that  I  had  taken  from  Watook,  and  Fergus 
rode  mine.  The  Condesa  and  her  daughter,  Don  De  Oli 
and  the  father  confessor  rode  in  the  family  carriage.  The 
Conde  rode  his  fine  gray  charger  at  the  head  of  his  troops. 
As  we  passed  the  family  Don  De  Oli  had  just  assisted  the 
Condesa  and  her  daughter  into  the  carriage,  and  was  get- 
ting in  himself.  Fergus  rode  close  to  me,  and  said,  in  a 
low  tone:  "Now,  God  bless  yer  honor,  that  is  provoking. 
See  that  swarthy  fellow.  Scorch  his  black  whiskers !  He 
is  going  to  live  in  clover.  And  they  just  stuff  the  sweet 
Isabel  beside  the  polecat,  like  a  pig  in  the  bag.  Ay!  but 
if  she  had  her  heart's  content  she'd  not  be  there.  Never 
mind,  my  master,  every  dog  has  his  day." 

The  array  was  soon  in  marching  order.  The  band 
struck  up  a  slow  and  solemn  march — almost  a  funeral 
strain — a  Spanish  martial  air  of  parting.  The  trampling 
of  horses  disturbed  the  stillness  of  the  morning,  and  the 
impression  of  the  music  and  the  scene  thrilled  through 
my  frame.  Who  can  account  for  such  a  deep  feeling  from 
circumstances,  which  at  another  time,  would  have  pro- 
duced no  feeling  at  all  ?  Our  place  was  in  the  advance. 

The  morning  dawned  upon  us  as  we  came  upon  the  Eio 
Grande  at  the  Parso.  The  river  is  of  considerable  width 
here,  but  white  with  its  furious  current  dashing  over  rocks. 
The  scenery  is  most  delightfully  wild  and  romantic. 

Our  morning  militia  left  us  here,  and  was  replaced  by 
other  troops.  We  halted  in  this  village  for  breakfast. 
The  order  of  march  for  the  remainder  of  the  day  was  re- 
versed; those  who  had  been  in  advance  were  now  to  be  in 
the  rear.  In  falling  back  for  this  arrangement  the  Conde's 
family  passed  us.  The  morning  was  bright  and  warm. 
The  glasses  and  the  curtains  of  the  carriage  were  raised, 


Durango.  95 

and  I  had  the  mortification  to  see  Dona  Isabel  squeezed  on 
the  same  seat  with  Don  De  OH,  looking,  as  Fergus  ex- 
pressed it,  "as  grim  as  death."  Not  even  the  enviable  place 
he  occupied  could  smooth  his  moody  brow.  This  fellow 
had  always  looked  on  me  with  lowering  countenance  from 
the  first.  I  confess  I  felt  a  singular  twinge  of  ill  feeling 
toward  him,  as  I  saw  them  pass. 

"Is  this/'  said  I  again  to  myself,  "is  this  that  terrible 
disorder  called  love,  and  in  this  case,  silly  love,  without 
hope,  or  the  chance  of  return  ?  And  are  these  the  feelings 
of  envy  and  jealousy?" 

The  country  along  the  route  was  sufficiently  pleasant 
as  to  be  interesting.  The  villages  we  passed  through  were 
composed  of  a  mixed  race  of  people,  dirty  and  ragged.  We 
passed  through  Chihuahua,  the  largest  town  in  that  part 
of  the  country.  I  made  some  acquaintance  with  the 
officers  of  the  regiment.  None  of  them  but  Colonel  Arre- 
dondo  spoke  French,  and  of  him  I  shall  have  occasion  to 
speak  hereafter.  'Of  course  my  intimacy  with  the  rest 
went  no  farther  than  the  common  forms  of  civility.  There 
was  a  marked  jealousy  toward  me,  which  I  placed  to  the 
score  of  my  country.  I  regularly  exchanged  salutations 
with  the  Conde,  who  simply  inquired  of  me  how  I  found 
the  journey.  I  spoke  but  twice  with  the  Condesa  and  her 
daughter.  I  found  Fergus  to  possess  a  cleverness  and  a 
fund  of  vivacity  and  amusement  beyond  all  price. 

It  was  high  noon  when  we  entered  the  city  of  Durango, 
whose  spires  I  had  seen  glittering  in  the  distance  for  some 
leagues.  Before  we  arrived  here  it  was  easy  to  see  we  were 
in  a  rich  mining  region,  for  many  of  the  utensils  in  the 
mud  cabins  were  of  massive  silver.  The  city  itself  pre- 
sented the  same  striking  contrasts  of  magnificence  and  lit- 
tleness, of  splendor  and  meanness,  of  palaces  and  hovels, 
that  we  had  seen  all  along  our  journey.  On  one  hand  was 


96  Robert  Gordon. 

the  vast  cathedral,  with  its  dome  and  columns,  its  silver 
shrine,  its  ornaments  inlaid  with  gold  and  sparkling  with 
gems,  and  its  fine  paintings,  beside  miserable  daubs  of  St. 
Michael  and  his  dragon;  on  the  other,  palaces  surrounded 
by  their  orangeries,  and  cool  with  the  dash  of  fountains 
playing  into  basins  of  marble;  and  the  gorgeous  displays 
of  temples,  peristyles,  columns,  and  all  the  ostentatious 
display  of  luxury,  towering  above  filthy  and  mud-walled 
cabins.  The  rational  part  of  the  city  was  like  the  archi- 
tectural. Here  were  men  in  the  richest  dresses,  and  their 
ladies  gaily  adorned  and  sparkling  with  diamonds,  and  a 
moving  mass  of  life  by  their  side,  clad  in  leather  jackets, 
and  dirty,  red  baize  shirts.  Such  was  my  first  impression 
of  the  wealthy  city  of  Durango,  the  centre  of  a  very  rich 
mining  district,  with  a  population  of  thirty  thousand  souls. 

I  omit  the  circumstances  of  the  Conde's  reception  here 
in  the  central  city  of  his  government.  I  am  not  an  expert 
at  the  description  of  these  things.  You  can  imagine  the 
contrast  between  scenes  of  this  sort  in  my  own  country  and 
here. 

Immediately  upon  passing  the  town,  we  entered  upon 
the  Conde's  estate.  A  private  road  led  us  along  an  avenue, 
shaded  with  catalpas  and  China  trees,  and  the  stone  cot- 
tages had  a  neatness  and  uniformity,  very  different  from 
anything  that  I  had  yet  seen  in  the  country.  The  road 
itself  was  a  curiosity,  and  wound  around  the  bases  of  fine 
slopes,  covered  with  luxuriant  vines,  patches  of  tobacco, 
fields  of  wheat,  and  groves  of  orange,  fig,  and  other  trees ; 
and  the  very  air  was  perfumed  with  the  sweet  odor  of  the 
jessamine.  It  was  lined  on  either  side  by  that  splendid 
plant  which  the  French  call  pite,  and  which  is,  I  believe,  a 
species  of  the  cactus. 

Through  such  an  avenue  we  road  for  five  or  six  miles, 
until  a  sharp  turn  in  the  road  cleared  us  of  the  hills  and 


OONDfi'S    MANSION. 


Durango.  97 

opened  to  our  view  the  columns  in  front  of  the  massive 
and  turreted  stone  mansion  of  the  Conde,  embowered  in 
the  shade  of  huge  sycamores  that  reared  their  white  arms 
as  high  as  the  turrets.  Amidst  these  ancient  bowers  it  oc- 
cupied the  centre  of  a  gentle  eminence.  A  lawn  of  many 
acres,  turfed  with  the  perfect  verdure  of  blue  grass,  sloped 
to  the  banks  of  a  small  stream,  which  brawled  along  over 
pebbles  and  rocks,  and  almost  encircled  the  lawn.  Domes- 
tic animals  of  all  kinds,  and  domesticated  animals  of  the 
wild  races,  as  the  deer,  buffalo,  cabri,  and  other  animals 
unknown  to  me,  were  ruminating  in  the  shade  along  with 
sheep,  goats  and  cows.  A  considerable  village  of  the 
houses  of  tenants,  and  the  offices  of  servants  and  retainers 
of  the  family,  were  built  in  parallel  lines,  with  strict  regard 
to  comfort  and  utility,  as  well  as  pleasing  effect,  in  the  rear 
of  the  mansion.  That  these  appeared  to  be  coeval,  and  all 
built  of  the  same  material,  a  beautiful  greenish  gray  soap- 
stone,  which  had  a  charming  effect  upon  the  eye.  The 
fences  and  all  the  appurtenances  of  this  sort,  were 
either  of  this  stone,  or  of  the  imperishable  mul- 
berry or  cedar,  and  were  massive,  strong,  and  painted 
white,  or  to  imitate  the  stone,  and  all  seemed  to  have 
especial  regard  to  perpetuity,  as  well  as  beauty.  Smooth 
mountains  in  the  form  of  cones  or  towering  and  ragged 
points  of  granite,  finished  the  distant  outline.  The  sun 
was  descending  as  we  rode  under  the  shade  of  the  syca- 
mores. It  was  a  scene  of  comfort,  repose  and  grandeur, 
which  filled  the  heart  and  eye.  At  the  entrance  to  the 
lawn  the  crowds  of  citizens,  the  rabble  of  the  city,  and  the 
militia  left  us.  A  select  and  invited  party  of  ladies  and 
gentlemen  of  the  vicinity,  and  of  favorite  officers  remained 
to  welcome  the  return  of  the  Conde  to  his  mansion  by  a 
fete. 

To  me  the  joyous  greeting  of  the  servants,  domestics  and 


98  Robert  Gordon. 

retainers  of  the  family,  who  amounted  to  some  hundreds, 
formed  a  pageant  a  thousand  times  more  impressive  than 
the  stern  and  bannered  ceremonial  with  which  we  had  been 
treated  for  some  time  past,  even  to  a  surfeit.  This,  too, 
was  arranged  with  the  air  of  a  fete.  But  here  the  demon- 
stration was  real.  It  was  amidst  troublous  times,  in 
which  the  people  were  constantly  alarmed  with  "wars  and 
the  rumors  of  wars,"  that  he  had  returned  to  a  peaceful 
and  rural  retirement.  A  host  of  dependents,  who  identi- 
fied their  own  security,  comfort  and  even  consequence,  with 
his,  welcomed  him  home.  What  a  different  air  has  every- 
thing that  is  done  with  the  heart,  from  that  which  is 
merely  got  up  ?  With  how  much  sweetness  and  tenderness 
did  Dona  Isabel  receive  their  caresses  and  congratulations  ? 
I  had  the  satisfaction  of  seeing  the  affectionate  bursts  of 
joy  with  which  she  was  welcomed  home.  Amidst  the  gen- 
eral melting  of  hearts,  I  had  the  delight  to  receive  a  cordial 
grasp  of  her  hand,  and  a  welcome  of  manner  and  eye, 
which  I  treasured  in  my  heart,  as  I  was  shown  by  her  to  a 
cushioned  seat  in  the  shade.  The  Condesa  and  the  Conde, 
the  father  confessor,  and  Don  De  Oli,  even  seemed  to  have 
relaxed  from  their  customary  gravity,  and  the  latter 
especially  were  unwonted  in  their  cordiality  to  me.  I 
was  introduced  in  rapid  succession  to  the  officers  and  to  a 
crowd  of  gentlemen  and  ladies.  Three  or  four  of  the  lat- 
ter were  beautiful,  as  many  tolerable,  and  the  remainder 
were  yellow,  swarthy  and  badly  formed,  but  were  dressed 
in  fantastic  finery,  and  only  calculated,  as  I  could  not 
help  remarking  to  Dona  Isabel,  as  a  foil  to  her.  To  this 
compliment  a  slight  courtesy  was  her  reply. 

A  most  bountiful  supper  was  spread  on  rustic  tables  on 
the  grass,  and  all  was  joy  and  festivity.  Amidst  the  babble 
of  voices,  plates  and  gaiety  I  was  able  to  receive  and  re- 
turn, without  notice,  many  of  those  kind  and  affectionate 


Durango.  99 

remarks  of  welcome,  so  naturally  growing  out  of  the  time 
and  place.  I  was  positive  that  Isabel  evinced  a  decided 
partiality  for  me ;  and  there  was  a  gladness  of  heart  in  her 
welcome  to  me  of  which  she  was  not  conscious.  Surely,  I 
thought,  vanity  could  not  misinterpret  all  this. 

After  supper  there  was  dancing.  The  Conde  and  his 
lady,  the  officers  and  their  ladies  chimed  in.  The  tall 
colonel,  Don  De  Oli,  the  future  son-in-law,  led  out  the 
Dona  Isabel  to  head  a  national  dance.  It  was  one  of  those 
into  which  the  Spanish  enter  with  enthusiasm.  I  was,  and 
still  am,  morose  upon  this  subject.  But  never  had  I  wit- 
nessed anything  to  compare  with  the  grace,  elasticity  and 
sweetness  of  the  dancing  of  Dona  Isabel.  I  had  never 
before  conceived  that  there  could  be  the  highest  grace, 
science,  and  even  expression  of  the  heart  in  dancing.  She 
seemed  to  inspire  her  tall,  grim  partner  with  dignity  and 
grace.  Clapping  of  hands  and  the  most  unbounded  ex- 
pressions of  joy  were  drawn  forth  from  the  spectators. 
The  incipient  feeling  of  heartburn  was  a  little  mitigated  by 
witnessing  the  comic  distress  of  my  friend  Fergus,  who  was 
tall,  and  who  was  obliged  to  sustain  his  part  with  the  gay, 
plump  duenna,  who  did  her  best  at  a  bow,  and  waddled 
with  her  short  figure  like  a  duck,  that  produced  an  uncon- 
trollable laugh  on  all  sides.  Isabel  shared  in  it  with  the 
highest  glee.  Even  I  could  not  exercise  the  supplicated 
forbearance  which  the  countenance  of  Fergus  seemed  to 
demand  of  me,  and,  against  myself,  I  laughed  heartily 
with  the  rest. 

I  might  have  remarked  that  it  was  the  fashion  in  iiiis 
dance  for  old  and  young,  parents  and  children,  masters  and 
servants,  on  these  occasions  to  join  in  the  same  dance. 
The  Conde  and  his  lady  had  paid  their  tribute  to  the  cus- 
tom, and  were  seated  under  a  spreading  sycamore,  wit- 
nessing with  calm  satisfaction  the  joyous  group  of  their 


ioo  Robert  Gordon. 

friends  and  dependents.  Her  partner  had  led  their 
daughter  to  a  seat,  and  was  engaged  in  conversation  with 
an  officer.  Greatly  to  my  surprise  and  satisfaction  Isabel 
beckoned  me  to  her. 

"I  am  thinking,"  she  said,  "how  to  render  you  popular 
in  this  region.  Nothing  would  do  it  so  effectually  as  to 
conform  so  much  to  our  ways  as  to  take  part  in  this  dance. 
It  is  a  national  mania  with  us.  You  have  seen  me  go 
through  with  it,  and  I  judge  from  your  looks  that  it 
struck  you  as  a  very  ridiculous  affair.  I  am  not  ashamed 
to  say  that  I  enjoy  it.  I  hold  it  right  to  countenance 
these  people  in  their  innocent  gaieties.  I  am  most  an- 
noyed with  the  insipid  and  flat  compliments  of  these  mili- 
tary heroes.  Our  national  manners  call  for  all  this,  and 
allow  strangers  privileges  here  which  would  not  be  tol- 
erated in  any  other  place.  I  should  think  it  would  con- 
form to  your  republican  notions  to  see  the  rich  and  poor 
mixing  together  in  the  same  sports.  Will  you  have  the 
goodness  to  walk  this  dance  with  me?  With  what  you 
have  seen,  and  with  a  few  directions  which  I  can  give  you 
at  the  time,  I  am  sure  that  you  can  manage  the  dance.  It 
will  be  acceptable  to  my  parents  and  the  people.  At 
another  time  and  place  I  might  not  be  allowed  this  famil- 
iarity with  one  of  another  nation.  Here  it  will  be  en- 
tirely in  place." 

I  think  that  envy  and  jealousy  was  the  real  spice  of 
my  reply.  "Thank  you,"  said  I,  and  here  I  added  all  her 
titles,  "for  your  condescension,  and  for  the  care  you  take 
to  remind  me  of  it.  It  is  as  unexpected  as  it  is  ungrate- 
ful. I  have  seldom  danced  in  my  own  country.  The 
dances  there  seem  to  be  sufficiently  ridiculous.  I  confess, 
if  you  will,  that  yours  do  not  seem  less  so.  If  I  wished  to 
caricature  rational  beings  in  the  deepest  malignity  of  my 
heart,  I  would  set  them  to  capering,  bowing,  skipping  and 


Du  range.  101 

conducting  after  the  manner  of  this  dance.  I  may  as  well 
pass  for  a  cynic  and  ill-bred  at  once.  But  I  do  not  love 
to  see  those  for  whom  I  entertain  the  feelings  I  have  had 
for  you  engaged  in  this  way.  Besides,  I  should  not  exactly 
choose  to  be  the  foil  to  set  off  the  dancing  of  your  late 
partner.  I  must  deny  myself  the  honor  which  you  pro- 
pose me."  She  arose  and  stood  before  me,  and  fixed  her 
keen  black  eyes  upon  me  with  a  scrutiny  at  once  intense, 
modest  and  yet  firm,  as  though  she  would  read  to  the 
bottom  of  my  heart.  "Do  you  not  only  misinterpret,  sir, 
but  mock  at  my  purpose  ?"  said  she.  "I  see  well  that  you 
understand  how  much  I  wish  your  esteem.  I  cannot 
even  flatter  myself  that  there  is  any  lurking  feeling  of 
jealousy  in  all  this  lowering  of  your  countenance.  Your 
philosophy,  sir,  is  too  hard-hearted,  and  sees  the  ridicu- 
lous too  keenly  for  me.  I  thought  that  a  young  lady 
under  my  obligations,  and  who  kept  a  strict  guard  that  too 
much  of  the  heart  should  not  break  out  in  expressing  those 
obligations,  and  who  had  in  Tier  veins  the  unpolluted  blood 
of  twenty  generations  of  noble  descent,  might  consider 
what  I  proposed  to  you  as  a  condescension  on  my  part.  I 
see,  sir,  that  I  have  mistaken  you.  I  am  to  be  your  pupil, 
and  I  will  show  you  that  I  am  not  apt  to  make  a  second 
mistake  when  the  first  is  clearly  seen." 

She  calmly  walked  away  rather  in  sorrow  than  in  wrath, 
and  I  was  deceived  if  the  flashing  of  her  dark  eyes  was  not 
dimmed  and  suffused  with  tears.  I  was  disarmed  of  envy 
and  jealousy,  and  all  the  legion  was  cast  out  in  a  moment. 
I  never  remembered  to  have  felt  worse.  It  was  not  acidity 
or  heartburn  now,  but  emotions  made  up  of  mixed  ingre- 
dients, but  all  of  them  more  bitter  than  aloes.  "Despiser 
of  dancing !"  said  I  to  myself,  "this  is  your  pitiful  philos- 
ophy. And  then  the  nobleness  of  her  motive,  her  con- 
sideration and  mild  benevolence !  Let  her  ask  me  to 


IO2  Robert  Gordon. 

dance  again,  and  I  will  dance,  if  I  figure  more  ridicu- 
lously than  even  the  fat  duenna."  But  the  evening  passed 
away  without  offering  any  chance  to  manifest  either  re- 
pentance or  reparation.  I  was  shown  to  my  apartment 
without  being  able  to  catch  the  eye  of  Isabel  for  a  moment. 
The  confused  hum  of  the  parting  company  gradually 
lessened  upon  my  ear  and  I  had  scarcely  pressed  my  pil- 
low before  my  imagination  was  weaving  a  laborious  web 
of  dreaming.  Mrs.  Kadcliffe's  castles,  priests  and  ghosts 
figured  in  succession  before  my  eye ;  and  the  catastrophe  of 
each  scene  was  Dona  Isabel  shedding  tears  at  the  thought 
of  finding  me  guilty  of  the  baseness  of  envy. 

The  next  two  days  were  days  of  finding  my  latitude  and 
bearings  at  the  table,  in  the  house  and  in  the  walks.  Fer- 
gus furnished  my  table  in  my  own  room,  a  charming 
apartment,  partly  lighted  with  painted  glass,  and  partly 
ventilated  with  Venetian  blinds.  Everything  that  could 
be  devised  for  the  comfort  of  a  scholar  was  placed  in  it: 
books,  stationery,  a  writing  desk,  a  lolling  chair,  and  a  few 
articles  of  sumptuous  furniture.  The  blinds  opened  di- 
rectly among  the  branches  of  sycamores  and  catalpas, 
and  I  could  reach  the  clusters  of  grapes  that  hung  from  the 
interlaced  vines  with  my  hands.  The  first  sounds  of  the 
morning  were  the  mellow  whistle  of  the  red  bird,  and  the 
matins  of  the  nightingale,  directly  on  a  level  with  my  win- 
dow. I  spent  a  good  portion  of  these  two  days  in  wander- 
ing unheeded  and  alone  under  the  ancient  groves  of  these 
beautiful  grounds,  in  the  shade  of  gigantic  trees,  planted 
by  nature,  beyond  all  date,  and  in  her  own  order.  Fine 
swells,  verdant  dells,  springs,  brooks,  and  the  river,  of 
which  I  have  spoken;  innumerable  flocks  of  beasts  and 
birds,  comprising,  as  it  seemed  to  me,  all  the  varieties  of 
the  ark;  beautiful  stone  cottages,  clustered  with  the  big- 
nonia  in  full  bloom;  comfort,  industry,  repose,  and  moun- 


Durango.  103 

tains  towered  in  the  distance — these  were  the  features  of 
the  landscape. 

I  found  the  intelligence  and  good  nature  of  Fergus  in- 
valuable. From  him  I  gleaned  much  of  that  small  local 
information,  which  is  at  once  so  necessary  and  so  difficult 
to  obtain.  There  was  something  peculiarly  amiable  and 
good  about  him,  and  I  was  interested  in  hearing  his  story. 
He  was  one  of  those  ten  thousand  poor  Irish  Catholic  ad- 
venturers, who  were  seeking  bread,  and  employment 
more  especially  in  Catholic  countries.  Enthusiastically 
attached  to  every  remembrance  of  home,  the  circumstance 
of  my  speaking  English  drew  his  kind  heart  toward  me. 
The  deep  and  grateful  affection  which  he  felt  for  the 
Condesa  and  her  daughter,  and  something  of  transformed 
kindness  to  me,  as  her  supposed  deliverer,  added  another 
tie.  The  only  failing  was  one  of  too  much  kindness,  a 
disposition  to  outrun  the  limits  of  propriety  in  bringing 
information  of  what  was  passing  in  the  family  in  regard 
to  me. 


iO4  Robert  Gordon. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

A  TEACHER  OP  ENGLISH. 

THE  third  morning  after  my  arrival  I  was  invited  again 
to  my  place  at  the  table  with  the  family.  After  suitable 
compliments  and  inquiries  if  everything  was  right  in  my 
apartments,  and  other  commonplace  conversation,  I  was 
informed  that  my  limited  number  of  six  pupils  were  wait- 
ing to  have  me  arrange  my  time  for  giving  them  lessons  in 
English.  I  proposed  commencing  immediately.  Fergus 
received  directions  with  respect  to  the  horses  and  a  carriage 
whenever  I  chose  to  ride,  and  I  was  invited,  with  great 
politeness,  in  all  respects  to  consider  myself  as  a  member 
of  the  family,  and  dispose  of  my  time  and  amusement  at 
my  own  discretion.  The  eye  of  the  Conde  constantly  wan- 
dered as  though  he  struggled  with  internal  apprehension 
of  rebellion  and  civil  discord.  The  father  and  Don  De 
Oli  had  returned  to  their  usual  stern  reserve  toward 
me.  The  Condesa  and  her  daughter  were  rather  formal 
than  otherwise.  There  were  a  few  officers,  besides  the 
family,  at  the  table.  For  myself,  I  was  treated  with 
civility  enough,  but  I  had  the  uncomfortable  sensation  of 
seeming  to  impose  restraint  upon  the  whole  circle.  It 
was  arranged  that  I  should  give  my  first  lesson  between 
three  and  five  in  the  afternoon,  commencing  with  that 
day. 


A  Teacher  of  English.  105 

At  the  assigned  hour  my  grammars  and  dictionaries 
were  selected  and  my  pupils  introduced  to  me,  in  the 
place  where  I  preferred  to  receive  them,  in  my  own  apart- 
ment. With  two  of  them  Dona  Isabel  and  Don  De  OH,  you 
are  already  acquainted.  A  teacher's  comfort  in  the  dis- 
charge of  his  thankless,  yet  responsible,  duties  depends 
much,  as  every  one  knows,  upon  the  disposition  and  char- 
acter of  his  pupils.  You  have  passed  through  that  bitter 
discipline  and  have  served  in  that  hard  warfare,  and  you 
will  sympathize  with  me  while  I  introduce  you  to  the  rest 
of  my  pupils.  I  comprehended  in  a  moment,  that  in  Don 
De  Oli  I  had  an  arrogant  observer  and  a  vigilant  spy; 
whose  least  concern  was  to  learn  the  language,  and  who 
would  yet  find  fault  with  his  instructor  for  his  want  of 
progress.  The  elder  of  the  four  strangers  I  should  have 
supposed  was  about  nineteen.  She,  too,  was  noble  and  had 
been  born  in  Old  Spain,  and  had  a  half-dozen  long  names, 
terminating  in  a,  and  was,  like  Isabel,  an  only  daughter, 
and  an  heiress  of  a  long  string  of  titles,  and  what  imported 
much  more,  even  there,  an  immense  fortune.  She  had  a 
fine  figure,  an  air  rather  haughty,  a  brownish  complexion, 
and  black  locks  and  eyes.  She  was  much  more  gaudily 
dressed  than  Isabel,  and  the  general  expression  was  pride 
of  wealth  and  uncontrolled  feeling.  To  avoid  the  incum- 
brance  of  her  names  and  titles,  I  shall  call  her  by  her  first 
name,  Dorothea.  The  other  three  were  of  the  name  of 
Vonpelt,  daughters  of  a  miner  of  Saxon  descent,  who  had 
accumulated  vast  wealth  and  now  lived  a  retired  life. 
These  daughters  were  from  eighteen  to  fourteen,  beautiful 
girls,  with  round  faces  of  the  purest  and  most  brilliant 
red  and  white,  with  flowing  flaxen  curls  on  their  alabaster 
necks,  and  mild  and  melting  blue  eyes.  They  struck  me 
as  most  amiable,  untamed  romps,  with  the  kindest  sensi- 
bilities, and  whose  good  dispositions  were  so  unchangeable 


io6  Robert  Gordon. 

as  to  have  survived  the  extreme  indulgence  with  which  they 
had  been  managed,  or  rather  mismanaged  by  their  widowed 
father,  who  loved  them  with  such  a  doting  fondness  as 
would  be  apt  to  cherish  their  faults  as  their  virtues. 

Few  situations  can  be  imagined  more  embarrassing  and 
awkward  than  mine;  a  stranger,  of  a  different  nation  and 
religion,  thus  commencing  a  task  hard  and  unthankful  at 
the  best,  under  every  advantage,  and  here  undertaken  with 
pupils,  who,  except  Isabel,  spoke  very  indifferent  French, 
the  only  language  in  which  I  could  communicate  with 
them,  and  thus  beginning  upon  a  language  which  foreign- 
ers generally  suppose  extremely  difficult  to  learn.  I  made 
a  few  remarks  by  way  of  explaining  my  plan,  and  mutual 
diligence  necessary  for  our  reciprocal  duties,  and  I  as- 
signed them  their  lessons.  Isabel  evidently  remembered 
what  had  occurred  at  the  fete,  but  she  seated  herself  to 
her  task  with  the  unaffected  docility  and  earnestness  of 
one  who  meant  to  learn.  The  only  time  in  which  I  had 
seen  a  smile  on  the  grim  face  of  Don  De  Oli  was  when  I 
gave  him  his  task.  There  was  on  his  face  an  ironical 
semblance  of  submisson,  which  became  him  as  much 
as  capers  do  an  elephant.  Dorothea,  instead  of  look- 
ing at  her  book,  eyed  me  from  head  to  foot.  The 
Misses  Vonpelt,  in  a  language  neither  French,  German  nor 
Spanish,  but  a  compound  of  all,  eagerly  proposed  a  great 
many  questions,  and  laughed  heartily  at  me  and  themselves 
for  not  being  able  to  understand  each  other.  A  grave 
smile  at  our  embarrassment  interrupted  the  studies  of 
Isabel,  and  she  quietly  set  us  right  by  interpreting  for  us. 
They  thanked  her  in  Spanish,  as  they  said,  for  bringing 
them  so  pretty  a  fellow  to  teach  them  English.  She  bade 
them  be  quiet,  for  that  I  understood  Spanish.  This  pro- 
duced from  them  more  laughter  and  romping,  and  it  was 
some  time  before  I  obtained  stillness.  I  applied  myself  to 


A  Teacher  of  English.  107 

the  Spanish,  while  they  were  engaged  with  their  English; 
and  we  proposed  as  a  trial  of  speed  which  of  us  should  first 
learn  the  language  of  the  other.  The  attention  of  Isabel 
was  sustained  and  entire.  Don  De  Oli  arose  repeatedly, 
took  out  his  watch,  yawned,  and  said  as  plainly  as  actions 
could  say  it,  this  is  a  most  simple  business  for  a  man  of 
my  dignity.  Dorothea  walked  carelessly  round  the  room, 
examined  the  paintings,  and  looked  me  full  in  the  face, 
asked  me  if  the  dress  I  wore  was  the  fashion  of  my  country. 
The  Saxon  young  ladies  found  inexplicable  difficulties, 
teased  me  with  innumerable  questions,  but  seemed  both 
good  natured  and  disposed  to  learn.  The  recitations  cor- 
responded to  these  different  degrees  of  attention.  That  of 
Isabel  comprised  all  that  was  within  the  limits  of  the  task 
assigned.  Don  De  Oli  strove  to  hide  his  want  of  his  lesson 
under  the  affected  indifference  and  disregard  to  the  busi- 
ness. Dorothea  answered  my  questions  by  proposing  ques- 
tions in  turn,  asking  me  the  English  of  different  words. 
The  Misses  Vonpelt  blushed,  attempted  to  recite,  and  the 
youngest  of  them  shed  some  tears.  I  treated  them  with 
great  gentleness,  and  made  all  possible  excuses  for  them, 
to  which  they  replied  by  saying  that  I  was  a  dear,  kind 
master,  and  that  they  would  do  better  the  next  time. 
Thankful  was  I  to  get  over  this  first  formidable  business 
so  well.  Isabel  tarried  one  moment  after  the  departure 
of  the  others.  I  seized  that  moment  to  make  amends, 
which  I  had  vowed  to  myself  to  make  the  first  opportunity, 
for  my  misbehavior  of  the  former  evening.  "Allow  me," 
said  I,  "to  avail  myself  of  this  chance  to  tell  you  that  I 
have  been  much  dissatisfied  with  myself  since  my  rudeness 
of  the  other  evening.  I  shall  have  no  more  peace  of 
mind  until  you  have  reconciled  me  by  your  forgiveness. 
The  beautiful  dancing  of  yourself  and  partner  excited 
envy.  In  the  self-blindness  of  the  moment  I  christened 


io8  Robert  Gordon. 

the  bad  feeling  by  the  name  of  philosophy.  Dance  as 
charmingly  as  you  will,  and  be  as  happy  as  you  will,  and 
with  whom  you  will,  I  will  witness  it  all,  and  be  a  philoso- 
pher no  more.  Only  say  that  you  forgive  me." 

She  held  out  her  hand.  "Forgive  you,  my  dear  sir? 
That  is  a  word  utterly  misapplied  in  this  case.  If  you 
were  to  put  it  to  the  account  of  a  little  jealousy,  it  would 
be  placing  the  thing  in  so  nattering  a  light  that  any  young 
lady  would  forgive  you  of  course.  But,  if  it  will  satisfy 
you,  know  that  the  frankness  of  this  confession  places  you, 
at  least  in  my  estimation,  on  as  high  ground  as  if  you  had 
not  sinned.  Go,  I  forgive  you.  Be  a  philosopher  no 
more." 

This  may  serve  as  a  specimen  of  the  general  order  of  our 
recitations  for  a  considerable  time.  I  was  sometimes  pro- 
voked by  the  insolence  of  Don  De  Oli.  But  he  seemed  to 
have  his  cue  and  not  to  be  disposed  to  carry  it  beyond  a  cer- 
tain point.  I  found  him  not  deficient  in  capacity.  Some- 
times, to  impress  me  that  this  was  not  the  case  he  would 
recite  his  lessons  quite  well.  He  once  or  twice  undertook 
to  puzzle  me  with  some  perplexing  niceties  which  he  had 
studied  out.  As  soon  as  he  found  me  thoroughly  informed 
upon  the  subject,  he  desisted,  and  I  was  troubled  from  that 
quarter  no  more.  My  other  pupils  gave  me  no  particular 
difficulty,  and  made  the  customary  progress,  except  one — 
and  her  progress  was  rapid;  the  task  of  teaching  her  was 
delightful,  and  was  reserved  as  a  dessert  to  carry  down  the 
bitterness  of  all  the  rest.  My  other  amusements  were 
walking  and  riding.  I  made  frequent  excursions  among 
the  mountains,  and  often  rose  early  and  scaled  them,  that 
from  their  summits  I  might  contemplate  the  rising  sun. 
I  sometimes  angled  and  bathed  in  the  stream,  and  in  these 
amusements  I  had  more  dexterity  and  success  than  the 
inhabitants  themselves.  Once  or  twice  I  rode  with  the 


A  Teacher  of  English.  109 

Conde  on  his  hunting  parties.  I  saw  at  once  that  I  could 
never  acquire  anything  like  the  dexterity  of  the  Spanish 
in  throwing  the  noose.  But  my  serious  amusements  at 
home  were  my  books. 

A  new  source  of  satisfaction  was  opening  to  both  Isabel 
and  myself.  My  previous  knowledge  of  Latin  and  French, 
together  with  a  considerable  knowledge  of  the  philosophy 
of  languages  in  general,  and,  let  me  bring  out  the  whole 
truth,  an  earnest  desire  to  converse  with  Dona  Isabel  in  a 
language  which  flowed  from  her  lips  like  honey,  and 
sounded  on  my  ear  like  music,  soon  made  me  master  of 
the  Spanish.  I  felt  it  due  to  the  talents  and  virtues,  as 
well  as  to  the  taste  and  literature  of  my  fair  and  amiable 
pupil,  to  propose  to  be  guided  in  my  course  of  reading  by 
her  judgment.  I  perceived  that  it  was  a  compliment 
which  counted  at  once,  and  went  directly  to  the  point. 
She,  in  her  turn,  made  a  surprising  progress  in  English, 
so  much  so,  that  she  could  converse  with  me  in  that  lan- 
guage before  any  of  the  other  pupils  could  comprehend  a 
sentiment  expressed  by  the  words.  They  might  have 
known  a  particular  word,  but  if  we  had  chosen,  we  could 
have  held  a  confidential  conversation  in  their  presence, 
and  nothing  but  our  countenances  would  have  betrayed  us. 
The  temptation  was  great,  and  almost  irresistible  to  this 
point.  We  were  both  a  little  guilty  in  this  way,  but  I 
can  aver,  on  my  conscience,  that  she  trespassed  of tener  and 
farther  than  I  did.  You  may  imagine  my  delight  in  un- 
folding to  such  a  pupil  the  treasures  of  our  great  master- 
minds. But  you  cannot  imagine  her  eagerness  and  delight 
in  these  employments.  I  discovered,  in  fact,  from  the 
brewing  gloom  and  ill  humor  in  the  countenance  of  Don 
De  OH,  that  he  was  fully  aware  of  our  enjoyments,  and 
that,  like  the  first  enemy  of  man,  he  was  watching  to 
eject  us  from  our  paradise.  I  saw  that,  in  order  for  the 


no  Robert  Gordon. 

tranquil  continuance  of  these  enjoyments,  innocent  as  they; 
were,  we  must  be  more  moderate  in  the  indulgence  of  them. 
While  the  countenance  of  the  father  Jerome  was  length- 
ening and  accumulating  bitterness  in  its  expressions  to- 
ward me,  my  young  male  pupil  made  little  or  no  progress, 
interrupted  our  most  impressive  readings  with  a  whistle  of 
contempt,  staring  at  her  with  an  expression  of  pity,  and 
at  me  with  scorn.  I  felt  that  my  happiness  must  soon 
have  a  crisis.  In  a  morning  conversation  at  the  table  he 
took  occasion  to  express  a  decided  dislike  for  English.  He 
observed  that  a  foolish  notion  had  controlled  him  to  think 
of  learning  it ;  but  that  it  was  a  harsh,  hissing  and  vulgar 
language,  fit  only  to  be  spoken,  as  it  was,  by  barbarians. 
He  thence  digressed  to  the  people  of  the  States,  and  he 
spoke  of  them  with  increasing  asperity,  adding,  that  the 
only  difficulty  in  reducing  the  rebellious  Creoles  to  proper 
loyalty  and  submission,  arose  from  the  contiguity  and  the 
infectious  example  of  the  States.  Colonel  Arredondo,  who 
had  acted  so  efficient  a  part  in  putting  down  the  beginnings 
of  disaffection,  was  present,  and  endorsed  his  words.  I 
thought  of  various  replies  to  these  rude  remarks,  which 
were  evidently  personal.  They  were  all  bitter,  and  replies 
of  defiance.  I  received,  too,  at  the  same  time,  a  look  of 
such  earnest  entreaty  from  a  quarter  that  I  need  not  men- 
tion as  caused  me  to  suppress  the  rising  words.  I  was  too 
content  with  my  situation  to  commit  it  by  taking  notice  of 
remarks  which,  after  all,  I  was  not  bound  to  consider  per- 
sonal. The  only  reply  that  I  deemed  it  proper  to  make, 
was,  by  a  profound  bow  of  apology  to  the  family  of  the 
Conde  for  leaving  the  table,  by  rising,  and  looking  Don  De 
Oli  for  a  moment  sternly  in  the  face,  and  leaving  the 
room. 

Fergus  informed  me  that  the  Conde,  who  appeared  to 
have  been  absent  when  the  conversation  commenced,  and 


A  Teacher  of  English.  ill 

who  only  noticed  the  insulted  consciousness  with  which" 
I  left  the  room,  applauded  my  mode  of  noticing  this  rude- 
ness, and  observed  that  whatever  they  might  have  thought 
of  my  language  and  country,  his  personal  obligation  to 
me  forbade  their  using  such  language  at  his  table  in  my 
presence,  and  requested  them  to  abstain  from  it  in  the 
future.  He  furthermore  told  me  that  he  had  more  than 
once  heard  the  father  confessor  cautioning  the  Conde 
against  the  influence  which  I  was  imperceptibly,  as  he  said, 
but  rapidly  gaining  over  the  minds  of  his  wife  and 
daughter.  He  had  heard  him  warn  him  that  such  a  course 
would  render  him  unpopular,  and  suspicious  among  the 
ultra  fierce  royalists,  that  it  was  dangerous  to  the 
church  thus  to  retain  a  heretic  of  some  learning  and  in- 
genuity in  his  family.  It  is  true,  he  informed  me,  that 
the  Conde  always  vindicated  me  from  any  sinister  designs, 
and  expressed  an  entire  confidence  in  my  honor  and 
fidelity.  Even  the  manner  of  the  Condesa,  so  tender  and 
maternal,  when  we  were  for  a  moment  alone  together,  and 
so  reserved  and  silent,  when  we  were  before  witnesses, 
boded  me  no  good. 

Influenced  by  these  united  considerations,  I  was  deter- 
mined to  have  an  explanation,  at  least  with  my  fair  pupil, 
and  either  propose  through  her  a  relinquishment  of  a 
charge,  which  seemed  likely  to  produce  only  dissensions 
and  uneasiness,  or  at  least  to  propose  to  her  to  shorten 
our  readings  together.  A  chance  soon  offered.  I  had  been 
in  the  habit  of  going  through  my  task  with  my  other 
pupils  first,  and  reserving  the  pleasure  of  hearing  this 
pupil  last.  Don  De  Oli  had  this  time  made  so  miserable 
and  stammering  attempt  at  a  lesson,  a  thing  he  had  not 
attempted  before,  since  I  left  the  breakfast  table  so 
abruptly.  He  sometimes,  as  I  have  said,  attempted  a 
lesson,  that  he  might  show  his  ability  to  do  it,  when  he 


H2  Robert  Gordon. 

pleased.  The  task  was  of  blank  verse,  and  somewhat  dif- 
ficult, and  he  wholly  failed,  and  failed  to  evince  an  effort 
to  succeed.  This  put  him  in  evident  ill  humor.  Dorothea 
stumbled,  too,  and  excused  herself  by  taxing  me  roundly 
with  taking  more  pains  with  Isabel  than  herself,  and  that 
for  this  want  of  equal  attention,  she  was  behind  her.  The 
two  younger  Misses  Vonpelt  strove  hard  to  recite,  and 
shed  childish  tears  at  their  failure.  The  elder  one,  who 
had  always  before  shown  great  sweetness  of  temper,  caught 
the  infectious  ill  temper,  and  was  stubbornly  silent.  The 
young  gentleman  whistled  a  while  delighted  with  these 
murky  indications  of  ill  success  to  my  functions,  and  left 
the  room.  The  other  pupils  went  out  in  succession,  with- 
out the  usual  civilities  of  leave.  I  was  left  alone  with 
Isabel  in  the  midst  of  her  recitation. 

The  recitation  closed,  and  before  the  reading,  which 
generally  followed  it,  as  she  took  the  book  for  the  reading, 
I  requested  pardon  for  interrupting  the  customary  order 
of  our  present  pursuits.  <fWhat  mean  these  tears  and  this 
rudeness,  Dona  Isabel?"  said  I.  "I  see  nothing  to  justify 
it.  Constructions  must  have  been  put  upon  these  exercises, 
which  I  see  nothing  to  justify.  Where  is  the  wrong?  I 
begin  to  be  afraid  that  I  am  fonder  of  learning  Spanish 
than  teaching  English.  I  have  a  surmise  that  I  am  rather 
longer  in  my  attentions  to  your  lesson  than  to  the  rest. 
It  is  natural  to  linger  in  pleasure,  and  to  hurry  through 
toil.  You  made  me  a  promise  to  put  me  right  when  you 
saw  me  going  wrong.  The  truth  is,  my  conscience  tells 
me,  I  am  partly  guilty  of  Dorothea's  charge.  I  have  prob- 
ably involved  you  in  an  unpleasant  predicament,  as  being, 
through  your  generous  indulgence,  an  accessory.  I  have 
been  thinking,  Dona  Isabel,  that  my  companions  about 
this  time  are  on  their  return  to  the  United  States,  and 
that  I  had  better  restore  tranquillity  to  all  these  ruffled 


A  Teacher  of  English.  113 

countenances,  and  relieve  you  of  all  charges  of  too  much 
kindness  toward  me,  by  joining  them,  and  returning  to 
my  country." 

During  these  remarks  she  manifested  great  agitation, 
and  replied  with  a  voice  of  deep  emotion,  which  she  en- 
deavored to  conceal  under  an  appearance  of  gaiety.  "You 
are  now  partly  kind,  sir,  and  partly  unkind.  You  are 
kind,  very  kind,  to  remind  me  so  gently  of  my  fault,  by 
calling  it  yours.  I  will  be  as  frank  as  you  have  been. 
Where  you  have  done  badly,  I  have  done  worse.  I  have 
determined  every  day  to  retrench  and  deny  myself.  But 
it  seemed  so  innocent,  and  so  little  liable  to  misconstruc- 
tion, I  have  returned  to  my  fault  again  and  again.  I 
love  English,  that  I  must  confess.  I  am  sensible  that  I 
have  trespassed  on  your  time  and  patience.  Your  lan- 
guage has  opened  to  me  a  new  world,  and  your  beautiful 
poets  have  convinced  me  that  I  have  a  new  heart.  Will 
you  leave  me  now,  in  the  midst  of  these  enjoyments  ?  You 
have  just  opened  to  me  the  first  pages  of  the  book  of 
knowledge,  and  have  raised  the  eagerness  of  desire,  and 
you  would  now  leave  me,  not  enough  instructed  to  read 
it  unaided.  We  cannot  spare  you  now.  The  character 
which  my  mother  has  always  maintained  as  belonging  to 
you  is  beginning  to  be  developed,  to  convince  the  doubtful, 
and  to  confound  your  enemies.  That  you  have  such,  I 
will  not  deny,  nor  that  I  have  heard  you  traduced.  More 
shame  to  those  who  do  it  so  unjustly.  Let  them  go  on. 
Their  palpable  malice  has  half  convinced  my  father.  In 
my  mother  you  have  a  firm  friend.  Your  pupils  have 
behaved  badly  just  now,  I  admit.  But  what  of  that?  I 
dare  not  tell  you  what  these  young  ladies  think  of  you,  for 
fear  you  should  become  vain.  Stay,  and  triumph  over 
your  enemies.  It  is  unworthy  of  that  spirit,  of  which  I 
have  received  such  memorable  proofs,  to  fly,  because  your 


U4  Robert  Gordon. 

merit  has  raised  your  enemies.  I  have  none  too  many 
real  friends  myself.  Oh !  if  you  knew  what  I  have  recently 
suffered !" 

It  is  not  altogether  an  original  remark  that  human 
nature  is  a  very  frail  establishment.  Those  brilliant  and 
spirited  eyes,  melting  in  tenderness  of  persuasion,  and 
fixed  upon  me,  the  frank  and  childlike  simplicity  of  her 
confidence,  and  her  deep  expressions  of  grief  with  which 
she  made  the  last  remark,  completely  vanquished  my  reso- 
lution, and  I  expressed  myself  in  terms  of  unwarranted  bit- 
terness toward  those  who  could  be  so  base  as  to  cause 
her  suffering.  I  was  vehement,  and  expressed  myself  with 
an  ardor  that  intimated  anything  rather  than  the  com- 
mon interest  which  I  must  be  supposed  to  feel  in  her 
condition. 

She  looked  at  me  rather  with  surprise  than  displeasure, 
holding  up  her  hands  in  astonishment.  "Look  you  here !" 
said  she.  "This  is  the  philosopher,  the  pure  and  dispas- 
sionate intelligence  that  despises  dancing.  Indeed,  sir, 
this  declaration  is  more  flattering  than  just.  It  is  a  truth 
that  a  personage,  so  meritorious  and  innocent  as  I 
am,  does  suffer  just  now,  and  that  bitterly.  Let  us  both 
leave  our  wrongs  out  of  the  question,  and  see  which  can 
suffer  with  the  most  dignity  and  patience — the  dancing- 
hating  philosopher,  or  the  untaught,  romping  Spanish 
girl,  that  dearly  loves  the  fandango.  Your  readiness  to 
fly  at  the  first  difficulty,  inclines  me  to  think  the  young 
lady  will  vanquish  the  philosopher  in  this  trial."  I  an- 
swered, "When  I  know  the  nature  of  your  sufferings,  and 
from  what  cause  they  flow,  I  can  then  judge  of  the  equality 
of  the  trial."  "Oh!  I  must  make  you  a  confidant,  then, 
must  I  ?  I  am  thinking  you  are  rather  young,  all  philoso- 
pher as  you  are,  to  receive  the  confessions  of  a  young  lady. 
But  I  see  no  impropriety  in  saying  that  the  man,  who  the 


A  Teacher  of  English.  115 

other  morning  so  rudely  caused  you  to  leave  the  table,  is 
the  cause  of  my  suffering.  Why  should  I  stint  my  confi- 
dence? They  have  destined  me  for  him.  I  have  parried 
the  proposition  for  a  long  time.  Once  I  was  indifferent  to 
him.  My  feelings,  I  know  not  how,  have  changed,  and 
I  now  positively  detest  him.  The  worst  is,  that  my  friends, 
my  father,  and  even  my  dear  mother,  are  in  the  conspiracy 
against  me.  They  even  urge  me  to  an  immediate  union. 
They  allege  the  disturbances  and  dangers  of  the  times; 
the  necessity  of  an  equal  aged  protector,  a  man  of 
the  same  rank,  wealth  and  conditions  with  myself.  They 
go  further.  His  taciturnity  with  them  is  wisdom.  His 
bitterness  of  temper  is  honorable  sternness.  They  even 
sicken  me  with  his  praises.  To  all  this,  urged  again  and 
again,  I  only  reply,  that  I  feel  safe;  that  I  would  neither 
wish  to  leave,  nor  survive  my  mother;  and  that  I  have  a 
fixed  disinclination  to  any  present  change  in  my  condition. 
I  strive  to  gain  time.  The  Virgin  Mother  forgive  me !  I 
dare  not  tell  them  that  I  hate  their  favorite.  Once  or 
twice  they  have  driven  me  to  desperation,  and  they  have 
heard  the  truth.  But  enough  of  this.  I  know  not 
what  has  led  me  into  the  folly  of  telling  you  my  trifling 
secrets.  I  mean  to  be  more  moderate  and  discreet  in 
allowing  myself  the  pleasure  of  reading  English.  I  mean 
to  be  patient  and  prudent.  Do  you  do  the  same.  Shorten 
my  exercises,  and  prolong  those  of  the  rest.  Be  marked 
in  your  civilities  to  them.  How  my  heart  thanked  you  for 
conducting  yourself  in  a  manner  equally  forbearing  and 
spirited  toward  Don  De  Oli  the  other  morning !  Continue 
this  course  and  you  will  conquer  all.  Oh,  that  the  Holy 
Virgin  would  touch  your  heart!  Then,  ah,  then — "  she 
made  a  pause.  "And  what  then  ?"  I  eagerly  asked.  "Then 
you  might  become  to  me  as  a  brother." 

"I  implore  you/'  said  I,  "my  dear  Isabel,  not  to  put 


n6  Robert  Gordon. 

any  of  these  bribes  before  me,  nor  to  make  any  of  these 
tender  suppositions,  which  can  never  be.  I  fear  I  can 
never  change  my  religion.  My  convictions  upon  this  point 
are  settled.  I  should  poorly  win  my  claim  to  more  con- 
fidence with  a  mind  that  weighs  character,  like  yours,  by 
becoming  a  recreant  to  my  principles.  I  beseech  you  not 
to  make  me  swerve  from  my  course  by  a  kindness  which 
may  set  my  wicked  imagination  to  weaving  the  threads 
of  a  tie,  tenderer  than  of  a  brother.  I  must  never  allow 
such  a  fancy,  much  less  give  it  utterance."  "You  are 
right,"  she  replied,  "you  must  neither  forget  the  latter, 
nor  dream  of  the  former.  But  remain  firm  to  your  phi- 
losophy. I  pleased  myself  in  fancying  you  were  cold, 
disinterested,  dispassionate,  and  what  an  excellent  cas- 
uist you  would  be  to  me  in  cases  of  conscience  and  the 
heart.  In  short,  I  promised  to  find  in  you  a  calm  and 
considerate  friend  and  brother.  Above  all  things,  I  wish 
you  to  exercise  forbearance  toward  Don  De  Oli,  and  to 
remain  where  you  are.  Things  must  change  for  the  bet- 
ter. Put  the  most  favorable  construction  you  can  upon  a 
confidence  which  departs  so  far  from  the  common  rules. 
Alas!  whom  have  I  in  whom  to  confide  but  my  mother? 
And,  unhappily,  she  is  in  sentiment  with  my  father  upon 
this  point." 

It  is  not  in  man,  at  least  it  was  not  in  me,  to  resist  such 
persuasions,  which,  however  they  may  seem  out  of  the 
way  in  the  relation,  had,  under  the  circumstances  of  the 
case,  an  air  of  simple  and  modest  confidence,  which,  ac- 
cording to  my  notions  of  decorum,  were  in  perfect  keep- 
ing with  her  whole  deportment.  My  own  wrongs  were 
forgotten,  and  I  regarded  Don  De  Oli  as  another  Watook. 
I  was  determined  that  I  would  remain  and  endure  all,  as 
long  as  it  should  be  endurable,  and  that  I  would  devote 
myself  to  the  welfare  of  Isabel,  in  whom  I  began  to  admit 


A  Teacher  of  English.  117 

to  myself  that  I  felt  in  the  full,  at  least  a  fraternal  inter- 
est. And  with  her  frank  admission  to  the  claims  up  to 
that  poinf,  I  determined  to  content  myself. 

I  fear,  sir,  that  I  have  already  wearied  you  with  these 
milky  adventures.  I  will  give  you  all  this  stage  of 
my  adventures  in  a  mass. 

It  happened  the  next  day  after  this  conversation  with 
Isabel  that  Dorothea  and  the  Misses  Vonpelt  came  in  for 
recitation  considerably  earlier  than  usual.  The  library 
was  separated  from  my  apartment,  where  we  recited,  by  a 
partition  which  was  pierced  in  a  number  of  places  to 
admit  a  free  circulation  of  air,  and  was  screened  by  Vene- 
tian blinds;  so  a  whisper  in  one  apartment  was  audible  in 
the  other.  I  had  set  out  on  my  afternoon  ride,  but  some- 
thing caused  me  to  return.  I  was  in  the  library  when  the 
ladies  entered  my  apartment.  I  was  so  situated  that  I 
could  not  escape  without  making  it  known  that  I  had 
heard  their  conversation.  I  heard  my  pupils  begin  to 
make  me  the  subject  of  a  confidential  chat,  premising  that 
they  had  seen  me  ride  out,  and  that  I  would  not  be  back 
for  an  hour.  I  heard  enough  before  I  had  determined 
what  course  I  ought  to  pursue  to  hold  me  quiet  until  I 
might  escape  unperceived.  I  was  aware  that  I  would 
create  a  most  painful  surprise  if  I  should  open  the  door 
and  interrupt  them. 

The  conversation  began  by  the  Misses  Vonpelt  inquiring 
in  a  whisper  if  it  were  certain  that  I  was  not  in  my  room. 
Dorothea  affirmed  that  I  was  not,  for,  as  she  rode  into 
the  court  yard,  she  had  seen  me  moving  out  on  horseback. 
"Besides,"  she  added,  "I  should  not  think  he  could  hear 
from  the  library,  even  if  he  were  there.  Neither  do  I 
believe  that  he  could  understand  our  conversation  when 
we  speak  in  Spanish."  Elder  Miss  Vonpelt:  "There 
you  are  mistaken.  He  speaks  and  understands  Spanish 


n8  Robert  Gordon. 

quite  well.  Love  and  Isabel  have  taught  him  that. 
Dorothea:  "He  learns  Spanish  to  a  miracle,  that  is  true, 
and  he  is  a  charming  fellow.  But  I  vow  to  the  Lady  of  Lis- 
bon that  I  believe  not  a  word  of  his  loving  Isabel,  though  it 
is  easy  to  see,  poor  thing,  that  she  is  dying  for  him.  But  she 
is  obliged  to  take  Don  De  Oli.  And  I  see  no  reason  why 
she  ought  not  to  be  satisfied.  He  is  rather  solemn  and 
grim,  to  be  sure,  but  well  enough  after  all.  I  suppose  you 
have  heard  the  news,  that  there  is  another  rising  in  Texas. 
A  great  many  Americans  have  come  on  and  have  joined 
the  rebels.  The  Conde  has  to  go  and  fight  them.  He  in- 
sists that  his  daughter  marries  before  he  sets  out  for  the 
army.  The  Condesa  is  in  heart  with  Isabel  and  against 
an  immediate  union,  and  there  has  been  a  great  storm  in 
the  palace.  I  think  for  one  that  she  will  never  do  any 
better.  Jesu!  I  have  seen  as  pretty  as  she,  though  she 
does  give  herself  such  airs.  The  father  confessor  is  ready 
to  excommunicate  her  for  obstinacy,  and  Don  De  Oli 
swears  that  she  did  formerly  as  good  as  promise  him, 
that  she  was  ready  to  go  with  him  to  the  altar;  and  he 
lays  all  the  blame  of  her  obstinacy  upon  our  teacher,  and 
swears,  that  if  the  adventurer,  as  he  calls  him,  does  not 
leave  the  country,  he  will  call  him  out  and  fight  him. 
Some  say  he  will  fight,  and  some  say  that  these  people  are 
better  to  fight  Indians  than  they  are  to  handle  a  sword  and 
pistol  with  a  gentleman.  I  wish  I  knew  if  there  were  any 
love  between  them.  For  my  part,  I  always  suspect  such 
grave  people.  Isabel,  to  be  sure,  seems  to  have  fire 
enough,  but  the  other  seems  an  insensible  block  of  wood. 
I  dare  say,  both  of  them  have  their  thoughts,  as  well  as 
other  people.  At  any  rate  Don  De  Oli  is  determined  to 
kill  him,  or  drive  him  out  of  the  country.  They  have 
threatened  Isabel  every  way,  poor  child;  to  send  her  to 
Spain,  to  a  convent,  or  to  shut  her  up  in  the  palace  on 


A  Teacher  of  English.  119, 

bread  and  water."  Second  Miss  Vonpelt:  "Poor  Isabel! 
I  am  sorry  for  her !  It  must  be  dreadful  to  marry  where 
one  does  not  love.  We  must  all  allow  that  Isabel  is  a 
sweet  girl  and  prettier  than  any  of  us.  And  as  for  our 
teacher,  he  is  a  divine  young  man.  Certainly  Isabel  is  an 
exception.  But  leave  her  out  and  we  must  allow  that  the 
Germans  and  Americans  are  much  handsomer  than  the 
Spaniards.  I  was  at  Chihuahua,  and  saw  those  fine  fel- 
lows who  came  with  Captain  Pike.  I  could  never  en- 
dure a  swarthy  Spaniard  for  a  husband  after  seeing  such 
men/'  Dorothea,  looking  in  the  glass :  "I  vow,  Miss  Von- 
pelt, you  are  very  complimentary.  Maybe  you  forget 
that  I  am  a  fullblooded  Spaniard  myself.  I  bless  the 
Virgin,  my  father  allows  me  to  do  just  as  I  please.  This 
poor  fellow  of  ours  has  no  money.  Now  would  it  not  be  a 
generous  thing  to  take  him  myself.  I  have  wealth  enough 
for  us  both.  I  have  done  everything  to  let  him  see  that  I 
did  not  dislike  him.  But  he  is  an  astonishing  block,  and 
will  not  take  a  hint."  Elder  Miss  Vonpelt :  "My  father  is 
as  rich  as  yours,  and  allows  me  as  much  liberty,  and 
Saxons  and  Americans  are  much  more  alike  than  the 
Spaniards  and  Americans.  I  hate  Don  De  Oli !  the 
bloody-minded  wretch,  to  drive  away  our  master  or  kill 
him.  I  hope  that  if  they  do  fight  that  Don  De  Oli  will 
fall.  Do  you  think  he  will  fight,  Dorothea?"  "I  dare 
say  he  will.  But  if  he  should,  these  Americans  have  an 
eye  and  a  hand  as  steady  and  as  true  as  steel.  It  is  just  as 
likely  that  he  kills  Don  De  Oli,  and  then  I  am  sure  he 
will  get  Isabel  for  the  prize.  Now,  to  tell  the  plain  truth, 
I  do  not  value  English  a  fig,  and  I  am  sure  I  shall  never 
learn  it.  What's  the  use  ?  He  talks  French,  and  you  say 
he  can  talk  Spanish.  I  vow  to  the  Virgin,  I  love  to  look 
at  him,  and  that's  just  what  I  come  here  for ;  and  you  are 
here  for  the  same  purpose.  How  is  it,  that  Isabel  has 


12O  Robert  Gordon. 

already  learned  to  hiss  in  the  horrid  language  ?  Is  it  not 
strange  that  the  language  should  be  so  harsh  and  the 
men  so  handsome?" 

I  heard  a  great  deal  more  of  this  sort  of  childish  prat- 
tle, and  from  it  I  gathered  that  Isabel  was  more  severely 
pressed  to  a  union  with  Don  De  Oli  than  she  had  informed 
me;  that  I  might  expect  to  be  treated  by  him  with  more 
rudeness  than  I  had  been;  and,  more  important  than  all 
the  rest,  that  there  was  an  insurrection  in  Texas.  The 
talk  ended  by  my  fair  pupils  proposing  to  take  a  walk  in 
the  garden  before  recitation.  The  moment  they  retired  I 
retreated  too,  and,  by  a  circuitous  direction,  came  into  my 
room  as  if  from  abroad,  leaving  them  entirely  ignorant  of 
what  flattering  secrets  I  had  been  compelled  to  hear. 

This  recitation  passed  off  as  usual,  except  that  Don  De 
Oli  did  not  attend  it.  The  young  ladies  apologized  for 
their  rudeness  and  negligence  of  the  former  day.  They 
attributed  it  to  chagrin  for  not  having  learned  their 
tasks.  They  promised  better  attention  for  the  future. 
As  we  had  agreed,  I  devoted  but  little  time  to  Isabel,  and 
more  than  usual  to  the  rest,  and  the  exercises  went  oS 
with  apparent  satisfaction  upon  all  sides. 


The  Thunder  Storm.  121 


CHAPTER  X. 

THE    THUNDER    STOEM. 

SOME  time  after  this  I  had  still  further  confirmation  of 
what  was  passing  at  the  palace  respecting  me.  I  wished 
to  visit  a  young  Englishman,  who  was  much  esteemed, 
and  who  had  been  dangerously  wounded  by  the  unexpected 
explosion  of  a  blast  which  he  was  superintending  in  the 
adjacent  mines.  Fergus  rode  with  me  to  show  me  the 
way.  As  soon  as  we  had  cleared  the  park  he  addressed 
me  in  a  voice  which  trembled  with  affectionate  concern. 
"Now  God  and  St.  Patrick  touch  the  heart  of  yer  honor, 
and  make  ye  a  true  Roman."  "Why  that  prayer,  Fer- 
gus?" "Because,  yer  honor,  Father  Jerome,  blast  his 
black  face!  nas  set  all  the  big  people  against  ye.  He 
tells  them  ye  are  a  bad  heretic,  as  knowing  as  the  devil; 
and  that  ye  will  make  all  the  people  rebels.  He  makes 
ye  a  kind  of  Orangeman.  The  Indians  and  all  the  small 
folks  like  ye  all  the  better  for  it.  But  there  is  no  help 
here.  For  the  king's  men  just  whip  ye  up  for  nothing, 
and  plunge  ye  a  thousand  fathoms  in  the  mines  for 
nothing  but  a  word.  And  these  folks  have  the  upper 
hand  now.  And  so  the  Conde,  to  please  the  big  folks,  and 
the  father,  and  the  young  Don,  and  all,  have  published, 
that  unless  ye  turn  round  and  become  a  true  Roman,  and 


122  Robert  Gordon. 

swear  for  the  king,  he  will  send  ye  packing.  Yer  land 
is  a  free  one,  and  if  ye  go  home,  unless  ye  are  pleased  to 
beat  me  back,  Fergus  goes  with  ye."  "My  good  friend," 
said  I,  "I  have  hardly  the  means  of  taking  care  of  my- 
self, but  if  I  leave  here,  I  certainly  will  return  to  my  own 
free  and  happy  country,  where  every  honest  man  does  as 
he  pleases,  and  where  an  industrious  and  active  lad  can 
hardly  fail  of  finding  profitable  and  independent  em- 
ployment." "Ay,"  said  he,  "that's  the  country  for  me. 
Here  there's  but  a  word  and  a  blow,  and  the  blow  comes 
first.  But  it  will  please  yer  honor  to  hear  that  Isabel, 
God  bless  her  bright  eyes!  pleaded  hard  for  ye,  and  said 
as  how  an  honest  man  could  not  change  his  religion  at 
once  and  just  when  he  had  a  mind  to.  The  jewel  and  her 
mother  had  a  great  deal  to  say  for  you.  Finally,  the 
Conde  got  his  blood  up  and  looked  cross,  this  way;  and 
swore  that  he  had  done  enough  to  please  her  whims  and 
those  of  her  mother;  that  his  mind  was  fixed,  and  that  he 
meant  to  try  another  hand  with  ye  and  with  them.  He 
looked  more  grim  and  bitter  than  I  ever  saw  him  before, 
and  ordered  his  daughter  out  of  the  room." 

Fergus  continued  to  give  me  details  of  this  sort  until  we 
arrived  at  a  most  beautiful  spot  at  the  foot  of  the  moun- 
tains, from  which  burst  forth  great  numbers  of  clear  and 
beautiful  springs.  In  a  large  grove  of  catalpas  and  white 
walnut,  through  which  ran  a  rivulet,  formed  by  the  union 
of  these  springs,  was  one  of  those  green  stone  cottages,  of 
which  I  have  spoken.  Here,  Fergus  informed  me,  lived  the 
young  man  whom  I  came  to  visit.  I  knocked  and  was  ad- 
mitted at  once.  On  a  clean  mattress,  in  a  room  neat 
and  cool  lay  the  unfortunate  young  man  whose  wounds, 
it  was  feared,  would  prove  fatal.  He  had  a  manly  face, 
of  the  finest  expression.  His  neck  and  breast  were 
blackened  with  gunpowder.  He  appeared  to  be  in  great 


The  Thunder  Storm.  123 

agony,  and  the  noble  efforts  which,  he  made  to  sup- 
press the  expression  of  it  before  his  mother,  gave  his 
countenance  a  striking  moral  interest.  His  mother 
seemed  to  be  between  forty  and  fifty,  and  her  coun- 
tenance bore  the  impress  and  the  trace  of  former  beauty. 
No  language  can  paint  the  maternal  affection,  appre- 
hension and  suspense  with  which  she  bent  over  the 
feverish  and  agonized  form  of  her  only  son.  I  told 
her  in  a  low  voice  who  I  was,  and  that  having  heard 
of  her  son's  misfortune,  and  though  not  of  his  country, 
yet  speaking  the  same  language  and  entertaining  for  him 
the  sympathies  of  a  fellow  countryman,  I  had  come  in  the 
hope  that  he  would  allow  me  to  sit  with  him,  to  watch  with 
him,  or  in  some  way  to  be  serviceable  to  him  or  her.  I 
felt  affected  with  the  spectacle  before  me,  and  whenever, 
the  heart  is  moved  the  tone  and  the  words  catch  the  emo- 
tion. All  the  mother's  heart  was  expressed  in  the  ear- 
nestness of  her  thanks.  "You  are  thrice  welcome  to  my 
poor  son,"  said  she,  as  she  fondly  grasped  my  hand.  "It 
will  do  him  good  to  hear  his  own  language  spoken  by  one 
so  nearly  his  own  age."  After  I  had  assisted  her  to  raise 
him,  while  she  arranged  his  dressings,  after  she  had  in- 
formed me  how  he  had  received  his  wounds,  she  proceeded 
to  tell  her  own  short,  but  sad  story.  "My  husband  came 
out  from  England  with  an  hydraulic  machine  for  throwing 
water  from  the  mines.  We  were  entirely  in  a  region  of 
strangers,  both  to  our  language  and  religion.  But  the 
place  was  delightful,  the  scenery  inspiring  and  the  people 
kind.  So  long  as  my  dear  husband  was  with  me,  I  knew 
no  want  of  society  or  friends.  We  obtained  a  comfortable 
income.  We  had  the  good  opinion  of  the  Conde,  and 
everything  went  well  with  us.  We  had  but  this  son.  He 
was  trained  to  the  same  employment  with  his  father,  who 
lived  to  see  him  able  to  take  his  place.  The  damp  of  the 


124  Robert  Gordon. 

mines  affected  his  health.  He  took  the  fever  of  the  coun- 
try and  died.  I  was  stupefied,  reckless,  almost  mindless 
for  months.  Even  this  sweet  scenery,  which  memory  still 
paints  as  it  was  when  my  husband  was  with  me,  became 
tame  and  gloomy.  I  was  sure  that  the  world  had  died  to 
me,  and  I  to  the  world.  I  mourned  in  secret  places;  and 
now  I  feel  that  it  was  the  insane  and  impious  grief  which 
rises  against  that  decree,  which  is  as  righteous  as  it  is 
unchangeable.  God,  who  is  rich  in  mercy,  bore,  with  His 
own  divine  forbearance,  this  my  repining  spirit.  I  arose 
from  my  stupefaction  and  struggled  with  myself,  and  I 
prayed  and  communed  with  God,  and  became  gradually 
composed,  and  the  spirit  of  peace  revisited  my  bosom. 
This  dear  son  began  to  be  to  me  as  the  husband  I  had 
lost.  He  came  forward,  considerate,  virtuous,  industri- 
ous and  respected  by  the  people.  Yesterday  the  second 
blow  was  struck.  My  Heavenly  Father  saw  that  my  idol- 
atrous leaning  upon  the  father  was  about  to  be  trans- 
ferred to  the  son.  It  may  be  that  God  will  look  upon  this 
my  extreme  affliction  and  will  stay  His  hand  with  this 
solemn  warning.  And  oh !  if  He  will  be  pleased  to  spare 
this  my  dear  son,  I  here  promise,  as  soon  as  he  shall  re- 
cover, to  strive  not  to  love  him  more  than  I  ought.  There 
is  nothing  on  earth  in  which  to  trust  but  God." 

Nothing  soothes  the  agony  even  of  pain  like  true  sym- 
pathy and-  tenderness  of  heart.  I  looked  on  this  poor 
widow's  all.  We  shed  tears,  the  mother,  son  and  stranger, 
together.  I  sat  behind  the  young  man,  sustaining  him 
half  raised  on  his  pillow,  and  was  bathing  his  head  and 
chafing  his  temples  with  aromatic  vinegar,  and  the  mother 
was  fanning  him,  and  dropping  silent  tears,  when  the  door 
opened  and  Dona  Isabel  entered  without  being  announced. 
The  Conde,  she  said,  had  come  out  to  look  at  a  new  mine. 
He  had  sent  by  Isabel,  who  felt  no  disposition  to  pass  by 


The  Thunder  Storm.  125 

this  scene  of  sorrow,  the  preparations  of  the  family  physi- 
cian for  his  wounds.  Her  steps  instinctively  led  her  to  the 
abode  of  misery.  She  requested  that  she  might  be  set  down 
at  the  foot  of  the  hills,  whence  she  walked  up  to  the 
widow's  cottage,  to  be  called  for  on  the  return  of  the  Conde 
in  the  evening. 

The  day  was  a  holiday  from  the  usual  English  custom, 
and  it  may  be  supposed  that  the  surprise  of  two  such  per- 
sons, who  seldom  saw  each  other,  except  in  the  presence 
of  prejudiced  spies,  thus  to  be  sure  of  the  greater  part  of 
a  day  together,  and  unsuspected,  was  a  pleasant  one.  Two 
circumstances  occurred  to  open  both  our  hearts.  We  were 
in  a  scene  of  sorrow,  peculiarly  calculated  to  open  the 
heart,  and  we  were  both  sufficiently  apprised  that  these 
interviews  must  be  of  short  duration.  I  may  add,  that  I 
knew  enough  of  her  ardent  and  affectionate  character  to 
know  what  effect  it  would  have  upon  her  to  see  me  so 
occupied.  And  if  ever  beauty,  united  with  all  the  advan- 
tageous circumstances  of  worldly  estimation,  is  irresistible, 
it  is  when  the  eye  first  melts  in  sympathetic  participation 
with  pain  and  woe,  and  is  suffused  with  tears  of  unaffected 
pity.  I  discovered,  by  the  first  affectionate  look  of  recog- 
nition, that  this  was  not  the  first  time  Isabel  had  been 
there.  I  saw,  too,  by  a  transient  look,  that  she  thought 
well  of  that  part  of  my  religion,  which  led  me  to  spend 
my  holiday  in  the  abode  of  sickness  and  sorrow.  She  said 
but  a  few  words  to  the  poor  widow,  but  it  was  the  look 
that  accompanied  those  words,  which  went  to  my  heart. 
The  young  man  next  received  her  attention.  She  gave  him 
some  drops  of  cordial,  and  was  particular  about  telling  ffie 
mother  all  that  the  physician  had  said  and  prescribed  in 
the  case.  The  drops  were  given  immediately,  and  I  raised 
him,  and  with  the  assistance  of  his  mother  we  applied  to 
his  wounds  these  applications,  'which  operated  almost  im- 


126  Robert  Gordon. 

mediately  in  allaying  his  anguish.  Soon  he  was  in  a  re- 
freshing sleep,  the  first  he  had  had  since  receiving  his 
wounds. 

It  was  natural  that  the  mother's  heart  should  open  to 
confidence  and  hope,  and  while  she  spoke  of  the  extreme 
forlornness  and  destitution  in  which  his  being  taken  away 
would  leave  her,  Isabel  replied,  "My  dear  madam,  he  must, 
and,  I  trust,  he  will  recover.  Everything  that  nursing 
and  medical  aid  can  do  we  will  have  done.  I  hope  there 
is  no  ground  for  apprehension.  But  even  if  things  should 
go  different  from  our  hopes,  as  long  as  I  am  here  and 
have  the  means  of  aiding  you,  you  will  have  a  daughter,  if 
not  a  son.  You  know  whether  you  may  depend  upon  my 
promise."  Who  can  trace  the  effect  of  such  eyes  glistening 
with  sympathetic  tears?  I  felt  to  my  cost,  what  it  was 
upon  me.  I  perceived  a  certain  swelling  of  the  heart,  which 
I  was  sure  was  love.  "This,  then/'  said  I,  "is  that  terrible 
disorder,  as  obstinately  fixed  upon  me,  as  I  was  supposed 
to  be  upon  all  my  determinations."  Never  had  I  watched 
a  conversation  with  such  an  intense  interest  as  that  of 
this  blooming  girl,  so  amply  endowed  with  means  of  kind- 
ness and  aid. 

The  Conde  was  not  expected  to  return  until  evening. 
Fergus  was  occupied  in  arranging  the  barn  and  enclosures. 
The  mother  was  in  the  kitchen  preparing  supper.  The 
patient  slept.  The  intense  heat  of  the  sun  was  mitigated 
by  passing  clouds  and  a  pleasant  breeze.  "Why  should 
we  not  walk,"  asked  Isabel,  "in  that  beautiful  grove?  I 
wish  to  show  you  what  a  strength  of  beauty  and  vegetation 
we  have  here  among  these  springs  at  the  base  of  these 
mountains.  The  trees,  plants,  shrubs  and  flowers  meet 
here.  The  fountains  which  trickle  from  the  foot  of  the 
hills  irrigate  the  various  tribes  of  vegetation  and  give 
them  a  delicious  verdure  and  coolness.  Here  are  the  fa- 


The  Thunder  Storm.  127 

vorite  haunts  of  the  redbird,  mocking  bird,  parroquet,  and 
myriads  of  other  birds  with  most  beautiful  plumage. 
Let  us  walk  and  enjoy  the  coolness  and  the  scenery." 
And  we  walked  under  trees,  every  one  of  which  was 
prodigal  of  harmony.  Around  us  every  thing  was 
beauty  and  repose,  but  heavy  thunder,  the  clouds  of 
which  were  not  yet  visible,  rolled  among  the  moun- 
tains. The  bold  eagle  and  the  falcon  raised  their 
screams,  and  were  soaring  in  the  blue  above  their  loftiest 
summits.  My  fair  companion  seemed  to  have  laid  aside 
her  reserve  and  distant  manner.  She  spoke  in  English, 
and  quoted  Shakespeare  with  an  enunciation  that  brought 
a  new  meaning  to  every  phrase.  I,  too,  had  my  quotations, 
and  to  tell  you  the  plain  truth,  we  were  both  verging 
rapidly  toward  that  confidential  conversation,  which  both 
of  us  seemed  to  have  a  presentiment  would  be  our  last.  I 
cannot  remember  how  we  arrived  at  the  point,  but  we  had 
imperceptibly  begun  to  say  civil  things  to  each  other,  and 
to  regret  the  want  of  opportunities  to  talk  with  a  little 
more  freedom.  Isabel  expressed  herself  with  great  energy 
upon  the  beauty  of  the  day,  place,  and  admitted  that  she 
had  never  enjoyed  a  walk  so  much.  She  quoted  from 
Othello,  that  if  I  had  a  friend,  let  him  desert  the  frivolous 
pursuits  of  young  men,  and  turn  aside  on  a  holiday,  to 
comfort  and  nurse  a  sick  young  man,  the  only  son  of  his 
mother,  and  she  a  widow — let  me  bring  such  a  friend  to 
such  a  place,  and  that  would  woo  her. 

Upon  the  hint,  the  same  purpose  with  Othello's,  sprang 
to  my  lips ;  but  prudence  and  honor  laid  their  injunctions 
upon  me,  and  suppressed  the  expression  of  it.  I  only 
observed  that  when  I  saw  such  a  friend  standing  on  a 
precipice,  with  temptations  almost  too  strong  for  human 
nature  to  resist,  I  should  advise  him,  if  honor  or  duty 
placed  a  single  obstacle  in  the  way  of  winning  the  prize, 


128  Robert  Gordon. 

not  to  woo  it,  but  to  fly.  "In  truth/'  said  I,  "Dona  Isabel, 
if  I  had  not  made  a  firm  covenant  with  myself,  it  would 
not  be  safe  for  me  to  be  here."  A  long  and  foolish  silence 
ensued,  each  waiting  for  the  other  to  begin  the  conversa- 
tion again.  She  resumed  first,  by  remarking,  that  she  had 
been  introduced,  just  before  her  embarkation,  to  the 
splendid  courts  of  Ferdinand  VII.  "I  was  very  young, 
though  I  had  the  customary  share  of  compliments  and 
attention.  But  with  what  different  sensations  did  my 
youthful  imagination  expatiate  in  the  scene  of  splendor  and 
dissipation,  from  the  calm  satisfaction  of  comforting  the 
desolate  heart  of  this  poor  widow,  and  walking  ii?  this 
sweet  place,  contemplating  this  grand  and  sublime  nature 
above  and  around  us;  seeing  those  gay  birds,  dressed  still 
more  gaudily  than  the  ladies  of  that  court;  hearing  that 
distant  thunder  echo  in  the  mountains;  feeling  myself 
secure  in  the  society  of  the  man,  who  has  opened  to  me  a 
new  and  interesting  page  in  the  book  of  knowledge,  in 
having  taught  me  his  language;  and  finding  myself  here 
with  him,  both  led  by  the  impulse  to  do  good,  and  who 
feels  on  so  many  points  in  common  with  myself."  I  replied, 
by  applauding  her  taste,  and  saying,  that  although  poets 
were  not  the  less  true,  that  there  was  no  real  and  healthful 
enjoyment,  that  would  at  once  satisfy  and  last,  but  that 
which  proceeded  from  truth  and  nature.  That  we  can 
be  happy,  let  divines  and  poets  say  what  they  may,  I 
know  and  feel.  Let  the  past  and  the  future  be  blotted 
from  the  records  of  memory.  I  can  live  long  and  happy 
on  the  remembrance  of  this  day.  "And  I,  too,"  she  replied, 
<(have  been  so  happy,  that  I  want  words  to  express  my 
feelings.  I  have  felt  before  this,  that  certain  places  and 
scenes,  and  even  a  certain  temperature  of  the  air,  must 
concur  with  the  tone  of  our  thoughts  and  feelings,  to  pro- 


The  Thunder  Storm.  129 

duce  high  enjoyment.  What  a  beautiful  canopy  of  shade ! 
How  grand  those  distant  peals  of  thunder!  And  yet 
what  repose  and  tranquillity  about  us !  Scarcely  a  leaf 
trembles  to  disturb  the  singing  of  the  birds.  This  place,  I 
should  think,  would  almost  suggest  thoughts  of  love  to 
one  who  holds  himself  above  the  joys  and  pursuits  of  the 
vulgar.  What  beautiful  verses  were  those  which  you  read 
to  me  the  other  day  from  Wordsworth.  See  if  I  quote  them 
correctly: 

"  'Love  had  he  learn' d  in  cots  where  poor  men  lie, 
His  daily  teachers  had  been  woods  and  rills; 
The  silence  that  is  in  the  starry  slcy, 
The  sleep  that  is  among  the  lonely  hills.' 

"I  have  often  heard  my  companions  talk  with  a  foolish 
cant  about  woods  and  solitudes,  and  love  and  cottage. 
Nothing  is  more  disgusting  to  me  than  the  affected  fond- 
ness for  these  things,  as  nothing  is  more  delightful  than 
the  real,  deep,  and  cordial  relish  for  them.  How  many 
times  have  I  suppressed  emotions  of  this  sort,  struggling 
for  utterance  lest  I  should  be  thought  extravagant  and 
romantic." 

While  we  were  conversing,  the  thunder,  which  had  been 
rolling  at  a  distance  in  the  mountains,  approached  nearer. 
The  peals  were  more  frequent,  and  the  echoes  more  awful. 
The  brassy  edges  of  clouds  rolled  together,  and  sweeping 
forward,  like  the  smouldering  pillows  of  smoke  from  some 
mighty  conflagration,  were  seen  lowering  from  the  heights, 
and  beginning  to  cover  the  sun.  Gleams  of  lightning 
darted  far  into  the  regions  of  the  atmosphere,  that  were 
as  yet  of  cloudless  blue.  The  crash  that  followed  inter- 
rupted our  conversation.  "Hark,"  said  she,  "what  terrible 
peals  of  thunder  I"  and  she  clung  involuntarily  to  my  arm. 


130  Robert  Gordon. 

I  asked  her  if  she  were  accustomed  to  be  frightened  at 
thunder.  She  answered,  "Not  with  thunder  storms  of  a 
common  character.  But  I  have  been  so  happy,  and  have 
enjoyed  these  hours  so  much,  that  I  know  no?  why,  at 
this  moment  I  feel  not  precisely  terror,  but  as  your  poet 
says,  'awestruck/  How  grand  and  how  awful  are  the 
forms  and  foldings  of  those  clouds,  'tempest  o'er  tempest 
rolled/  Why  is  it,  that  in  such  perfect  repose  of  the  heart, 
and  such  delightful  exercises  of  its  best  affections,  images 
of  terror  and  destruction  should  bring  with  them  peculiar 
alarm?  It  is  in  these  moments,  when  we  feel  in  the 
highest  degree  our  capabilities  of  enjoyment,  that  the 
idea  of  death  strikes  me  with  chill  and  fear." 

By  this  time  the  horizon  was  covered.  There  was  a 
rushing  sound  in  the  air,  and  we  were  reluctantly  com- 
pelled to  return  to  the  house.  The  thunder  storms  of  the 
northern  regions  seldom  give  an  idea  of  the  assemblage 
of  terrific  accompaniments,  belonging  to  a  severe  one  in 
the  tropics.  A  thick  mist  fills  all  the  distance  between 
the  earth  and  the  clouds.  A  dim  and  yellowish  twilight 
throws  a  frightful  tinge  upon  the  objects  around.  This 
storm  was  tremendous.  The  commencement  was  in  the 
stillness  of  death,  and  the  burst  of  the  wind  was  as 
instantaneous  as  the  crash  of  the  thunder.  The  rain  did 
not  descend  in  drops,  or  in  sheets,  but  the  terrible  phe- 
nomenon of  the  bursting  of  the  clouds  upon  the  mountains 
took  place.  The  roar  of  the  new  formed  torrents  and 
cascades,  pouring  from  the  mountains,  mingled  with 
that  of  the  rain,  thunder  and  winds.  The  atmosphere 
was  a  continued  and  lurid  glare  of  lightning,  which 
threw  a  portentous  brilliance  through  the  descending 
waters  and  the  darkness  of  the  storm.  Many  a  tree, 
that  had  stood  unscarred  for  ages,  was  stripped  from 
its  top  to  its  roots  by  the  descending  fires  of  the 


The  Thunder  Storm.  131 

sky.  The  people,  used  as  they  were  to  thunder  storms, 
were  appalled  by  the  fury  of  this.  The  sick  young 
man,  aroused  from  his  sleep,  rested  his  head  upon  his 
hand,  and  his  pains  seemed  to  be  suspended,  while  he 
contemplated  the  uproar  and  apparent  conflagration  of 
the  elements  abroad.  A  blaze  of  lightning  filled  the  room, 
and  the  thunderbolt  fell  upon  a  vast  cypress  but  a  few 
feet  from  the  house.  The  shock  was  so  violent,  that  each 
one  sitting  in  the  room  was  thrown  from  his  seat.  As  we 
recovered  from  the  blow,  we  saw  how  naturally,  in  such 
moments,  each  one  flies  to  the  object  in  which  he  has  the 
most  confidence.  The  mother  sprang  to  the  arms  of  her 
son,  and  Isabel,  at  the  same  moment,  clung  to  my  side. 
The  scene,  so  terrific  to  them,  was  to  me,  one  of  the 
grandest  in  nature.  I  enjoyed  the  darkness  and  commo- 
tion of  the  storm.  All  the  energies  of  my  nature  were 
awakened.  I  would  have  been  willing  that  such  peals 
should  have  been  repeated  every  minute,  so  !hat  the  bolt 
did  not  fall  on  the  house.  The  impulse  which  had  led 
Isabel  to  fly  to  me  in  the  moment  of  danger,  was  the  most 
unequivocal  proof  I  had  yet  experienced,  th'at  I  was  not 
indifferent  to  her.  Here  the  heart  had  spoken;  but  the 
moment  of  recovered  self-possession  replaced  the  paleness 
of  surprise  and  terror  with  blushes  of  consciousness.  The 
entire  calmness,  which  I  felt  and  vowed,  drew  from  them 
expressions  of  astonishment,  almost  reproach.  But  it 
gradually  communicated  composure  to  the  rest.  We 
resumed  our  seats  in  a  kind  of  tranquil  astonishment,  as 
the  storm  gradually  subsided.  The  thunder  still  rolled 
sublimely,  but  at  a  greater  distance.  The  blue  of  the 
atmosphere  began  to  show  itself  at  the  zenith.  The  clouds 
rolled  away  toward  the  east,  and  the  sun  came  forth  in 
his  brightness,  just  above  the  smoking  summit  of  the  hills, 
scene,  which  was  terrific  in  the  fury  of  the  storm, 


Robert  Gordon. 

was  now  an  indescribable  mixture  of  beauty  and  grandeur. 
Frequent  gleams  of  the  most  vivid  lightning  played  on 
the  extremities  of  the  clouds,  rolled  together,  pile  above 
pile,  like  precipices  of  brass.  White  pillows  o?  mist  arose 
from  the  earth.  The  birds  welcomed  the  return  of  the 
sun,  and  the  renewed  repose  of  nature,  with  a  thousand 
mingled  songs.  Occasionally,  a  louder  peal  of  thunder 
made  the  cottage  tremble  to  its  foundation,  and  the  roar  of 
the  torrents  that  the  shower  had  made  in  the  mountains, 
sounded  like  distant  tones  of  an  organ. 

The  young  man  was  revived  by  the  cheering  freshness 
of  the  atmosphere,  and  that  balmy  odor  and  richness  of 
the  earth  and  sky,  after  such  a  rain.  We  sat  at  the  door  of 
the  cottage,  looking  abroad  upon  the  scene,  and  inhaling 
the  breeze  too  full  at  heart,  at  least  two  of  us,  for  any- 
thing but  silence  and  interior  enjoyment.  We  were  aroused 
from  our  pleasant  reverie,  by  the  rattling  of  the  Conde's 
carriage.  Isabel  turned  pale,  as  she  saw  that  we  were  dis- 
covered together.  There  was  no  retreat.  The  family  had 
not  known  that  I  was  to  visit  there,  and  the  meeting  had 
too  much  the  appearance  of  having  been  preconcerted. 
This  appearance  was  strengthened  by  the  evident  pertur- 
bation in  her  face.  Even  the  countenance  of  the  Condesa, 
as  she  came  in,  had  an  unwonted  expression  of  severity. 
The  Conde,  the  priest,  and  Don  De  Oli,  each  reddened 
with  undisguised  resentment.  The  physician  was  with 
them,  and  while  he  and  the  Conde  were  examining  the 
case  of  the  young  man,  and  the  Condesa  was  engaged 
in  conversation  with  the  widow,  Don  De  Oli  requested 
me  to  walk  abroad  with  him.  The  very  manner  in 
which  he  made  the  request  was  an  affront.  However 
extraordinary  the  request,  and  the  manner  in  which  he 
made  it,  I  saw  no  reason  why  I  should  decline.  I 
foresaw,  in  fact,  the  course  our  conversation  would 


The  Thunder  Storm.  133 

assume.  It  did  not  contribute  to  my  composure,  to  notice 
that  his  request  had  been  noticed  by  the  Condesa  and  her 
daughter,  and  that  they  were  both  as  pale  as  death  as  I 
went  out. 

We  were  scarcely  clear  of  the  cottage  before  he  began 
in  Spanish.  "Sir,  it  is  full  time  that  you  and  I  have  an 
explanation."  I  begged  him  to  proceed,  and  tell  upon 
what  subject.  "You  know  too  well,"  he  replied,  "the 
subject  I  mean.  I  have  had  good  reasons  to  complain 
before,  but  have  forborne,  till  your  conduct  is  no  longer 
endurable.  I  find  you  here  in  company  with  Dona  Isabel. 
The  meeting  is  evidently  preconcerted.  When  a  young 
lady  of  her  rank  and  standing  so  degrades  herself,  what- 
ever may  be  her  share  of  the  fault  and  folly,  I  shall  con- 
sider you  answerable  for  the  whole.  You  are  perfectly 
aware  of  my  right  to  interfere  in  this  case.  You  must  be 
equally  aware,  that  at  this  stage  of  your  stay  in  a  family 
where  an  accident  has  given  you  claims  that  you  seem 
disposed  to  prosecute  to  the  utmost,  seeking  opportunities 
of  private  interviews  with  that  lady  must  be  as  unpleasant 
and  offensive  to  her  parents  as  it  is  affronting  to  me. 
You  seem  to  have  imposed  upon  her  gratitude,  and  sub- 
sequently, to  have  weakened  her  reason  and  good  sense,  to 
the  point  of  inducing  her  to  dishonor  her  noble  name 
and  family.  The  parents  have  finally  seen  the  error  in 
allowing  themselves  to  be  influenced  by  the  foolish  fancies 
of  their  daughter.  They  propose  a  summary  way  of 
bringing  this  affair  to  a  crisis.  But  it  is  my  cause,  and 
I  propose  to  take  it  into  my  own  hands.  I  waive  all  ob- 
jections to  you  on  the  score  of  birth,  standing  and  charac- 
ter. If  you  are  the  undoubted  chevalier,  which  you  are  es- 
timated to  be  from  one  unfortunate  adventure,  you  will 
meet  me,  and  we  will  decide  our  pretensions  to  the  young 
lady  in  question,  in  the  proper  way.  If  you  refuse,  she 


134  Robert  Gordon. 

will  at  least  see  the  true  nature  of  the  heroism  of  her 
chivalrous  and  heretical  champion.  You  understand  me, 
sir?" 

"Yes,"  I  answered,  somewhat  bitterly.  "Your  head, 
heart  and  language  are  hut  too  easily  comprehended.  In 
the  first  place,  sir,  you  have  no  right  to  tax  me  in  this 
way.  I  respect  myself  too  much,  and  you  too  little,  to  vin- 
dicate myself,  or  obviate  your  charges.  I  owe  it  to  Dona 
Isabel,  however,  still  more  than  to  myself,  for  I  would 
not  refer  to  it  on  my  own  account,  to  affirm  on  my  honor, 
that  no  knowledge  of  her  intended  visit  induced  me  to 
come,  and  that  if  I  had  known  that  she  would  have  been 
here,  I  should  not  have  come  myself.  For  the  rest,  sir, 
whether  I  am  brave,  or  not,  it  becomes  not  me  to  say. 
It  is  contrary  to  my  settled  principles,  if  you  please,  to 
fight  a  duel.  No  temptation  shall  induce  me,  no  provoca- 
tion goad  me,  to  violate  my  principles.  Dona  Isabel,  and 
every  other  person,  will  think  me  chevalier,  or  not,  as  they 
choose.  I  will  not  meet  you  in  that  way.  Even  upon 
your  calculations,  in  staking  our  lives  upon  this  issue,  I 
do  not  estimate  the  stakes  to  be  equal.  Whatever  difference 
fortune  has  made  between  us,  I  have  always  felt  myself,  I 
will  not  say  so  much  above  you,  but  so  different  from  you, 
that  all  your  attempts  to  insult  me,  have  been,  and  are 
now  utterly  unavailing." 

This  I  said  in  good  set  Spanish.  It  seemed  equally  to 
rouse  his  confidence  and  his  rage.  He  seemed  to  have 
had  some  modest  apprehension  that  I  would  fight  him. 
When  they  were  removed,  his  insolence  knew  no  bounds. 
He  poured  out  terms  corresponding  to  the  words,  poltroon, 
coward,  scoundrel,  etc.,  in  rapid  succession,  and  told  me, 
that  if  he  did  not  fear  the  interference  of  the  family,  he 
would  chastise  me  on  the  spot.  I  was  wholly  unarmed, 
but  in  bodily  strength  much  his  superior.  I  advanced 


The  Thunder  Storm.  135 

near  him,  and  directly  in  front,  eyeing  him  sternly.  "Sir," 
said  I,  "that  is  another  affair.  Nothing  will  provoke  me  to 
be  the  aggressor,  and  nothing  will  make  me  swerve  from 
my  purpose  not  to  fight  you.  Attempt  the  least  personal 
violence,  and,  sir,  I  have  principles  for  the  emergency. 
Touch  me,  sir,  and  you  will  know  in  a  moment  the  power 
of  my  muscles,  and  I  have  a  surmise,  that  one  experiment 
would  satisfy  you  forever."  In  his  trembling  hands,  and 
in  his  pale  face,  and  a  kind  of  impulse  to  retreat,  I  saw 
he  was  not  nerved  to  the  point  of  immediate  contest.  He 
retired,  uttering  as  he  went,  the  terms  "loquacious  coward," 
and  entered  the  cottage,  and  the  family  soon  after  took 
their  leave.  I  entered  the  cottage,  and  repeated  my  offers 
of  watching  and  aid,  received  the  affectionate  and  cordial 
thanks  of  the  widow,  and  followed  the  carriage  at  a 
distance. 

On  my  return,  I  learned  from  Fergus,  that  Don  De  OH 
had  been  particular  to  have  them  know  that  he  had  chal- 
lenged me,  and  that  I  had  refused  to  fight  him.  "And," 
said  he,  "God  bless  yer  honor,  but  it  has  turned  the 
Conde's  heart  still  more  against  ye.  Every  tongue  wags 
upon  the  subject,  but  Isabel's,  and  she,  the  jewel,  just 
turned  her  face  and  looked  t'other  way.  Everybody  fights 
here  when  he  is  asked.  Ah!  by  St.  Patrick,  had  it  been 
me,  yer  honor,  that  he  had  been  asking  that  way,  he 
should  have  tasted  my  shillalah,  anyhow.  I  see  clearly 
that  yer  honor  will  have  to  give  up  the  business  of 
learning  them  English,  and  leave  the  family.  Maybe 
it  is  not  yer  way  of  doing  business.  Even  the  jewel 
herself  would  have  thought  none  the  less  of  ye  for  giving 
that  whelp  a  basting." 

Thus  I  saw  that  even  the  kind  hearted  Fergus  had  been 
carried  away  by  their  prejudices,  and  chilled  against  me 
for  refusing  to  fight.  You  must  be  perfectly  aware  how 


136  Robert  Gordon. 

strongly  the  current  sets  in  in  this  region  against  a  young 
man  who  refuses  a  challenge.  Even  the  few  who  profess 
to  act  under  the  influence  of  the  Gospel  evidently  grow 
cold  toward  a  person  who  has  been  known  to  have  refused 
a  challenge.  I  no  longer  disguised  from  myself  that  I 
loved  Isabel  with  all  my  soul.  I  flattered  myself  that  I 
was  loved  in  return,  and  persons  at  that  time  of  life  will 
conjecture  visions  of  hope.  I  knew  her  heart  and  the 
excellence  of  her  understanding,  and  the  correctness  of  her 
moral  feelings,  and  yet  I  hardly  dared  to  hope.  It  was 
a  reflection  of  the  greatest  bitterness,  that  I  should,  after 
all,  be  banished  from  the  palace,  my  pursuit,  and  Isabel, 
by  my  avowed  enemy  from  the  first.  I  found  it  hard,  and 
even  impossible  to  tranquillize  my  feelings  by  recurring 
to  my  principles.  I  thought  with  the  vanquished  Brutus, 
"0,  virtue,  I  have  worshiped  thee  as  a  real  divinity,  and 
I  find  thee  but  an  empty  name."  We  rode  on  in  silence, 
for  even  Fergus,  having  had  his  say,  rode  beside  me  wifh' 
out  uttering  a  word. 

As  we  approached  the  river,  near  the  palace,  the  twilight 
was  fast  fading  away.  The  carriage  might  be  in  advanc^ 
a  quarter  of  a  mile.  I  heard  a  loud  shriek  of  terror  and 
distress.  We  put  spurs  to  our  horses,  and  were  on  the 
banks  of  the  river  in  a  moment.  Our  arrival  was  at  a 
critical  time  for  the  family.  The  carriage  and  all  that  were 
in  it  had  been  carried  away  by  the  stream.  The  coach 
door  was  closed,  and  the  Conde,  his  lady,  and  their  daughter 
were  drowning,  without  the  possibility  of  escape.  The 
attendant  servants  on  horseback  and  the  physician  had 
crossed  by  swimming,  and  were  crying  for  help  on  the 
other  side.  The  priest,  with  a  more  reverend  care  for 
his  health,  or  with  an  earlier  foresight  of  the  danger,  had 
cleared  himself  of  the  carriage  and  hung  fast  to  the  roof. 
Don  De  Oli,  too,  had  been  in  season  to  escape,  and  had 


The  Thunder  Storm.  137 

floated  down  the  current,  until  he  had  seized  a  long  branch, 
which  waved  up  and  down,  and  sometimes  sunk  him  quite 
under  the  water.  He  and  the  priest  appeared  to  strive 
which  could  bawl  the  most  lustily  for  help.  The  servants 
answered  all  their  cries  by  still  louder  shrieks,  by  crossing 
themselves,  and  making  vows  to  our  Lady  of  the  Pillar. 
I  stripped  myself  to  my  pantaloons  in  a  moment,  plunged 
into  the  foaming  current,  and  found  the  advantage  of 
being  an  expert  swimmer.  The  horses  were  already  sunk 
and  drowned,  and  the  carriage,  impeded  in  its  downward 
course  by  swinging  against  a  clump  of  small  trees  in  tHe 
stream,  just  sunk  the  party  shut  up  in  it  up  to  their  chins, 
and  sometimes  under  water,  according  to  the  waving  of  the 
bushes.  The  priest  on  the  top  of  the  carriage  begged  me 
for  the  love  of  God  and  the  Virgin,  to  give  him  the  first 
deliverance.  I  disregarded  his  cries,  and  was  obliged  to 
dive  in  order  to  get  to  the  latch  on  the  door.  I  soon 
rescued  the  Conde,  who  was  nearest  the  door,  and  was  not 
so  exhausted  but  that  he  was  able  to  swim  ashore.  I 
then  drew  out  the  Condesa  and  her  daughter,  who  both 
clung  to  me  at  once,  and  I  was  in  danger  of  being  drowned 
with  them.  I  disengaged  their  hands  and  pushed  them 
from  me  at  my  arm's  length.  They,  disengaged  from  me, 
clung  to  each  other.  I  grasped  the  robe  of  the  mother 
with  one  hand,  and  with  the  other  I  wafted  them  ashore 
almost  half  drowned  and  unconscious.  To  some  in  my 
situation,  it  would  almost  furnish  amusement  to  hear  the 
lusty  cries  of  my  two  friends  in  the  stream.  As  Don 
De  Oli  seemed  to  be  in  the  greatest  danger,  I  proposed 
to  rescue  him  first.  I  rested  a  moment  on  the  bank  to 
recover  breath,  and  then  plunged  in.  He  had,  as  I  have 
remarked,  enormous  black  whiskers.  I  remembered  his 
recent  insult.  I  twisted  my  fingers  in  the  curls  of  his 
whiskers,  by  which  I  had  the  finest  management  of  him, 


138  Robert  Gordon. 

and  in  this  manner  I  fished  this  young  limb  of  the  Spanish 
nobility  safely  from  the  stream. 

The  father  alone  remained  on  top  of  the  carriage,  and 
was  now  apparently  sinking.  His  cries  of  "Help !  murder ! 
I  drown  I"  were  interrupted  by  loud  and  earnest  recitations 
of  the  prayers  of  his  church  to  the  Virgin.  I  took  one 
end  of  a  handkerchief,  and  gave  him  the  other  to  hold, 
and  in  this  way  I  brought  him  off  safe.  The  father, 
mother  and  daughter  had  already  been  conveyed  to  the 
house.  Don  De  Oli  had  suffered  so  much  from  fright  and 
the  water  he  had  swallowed  that  he  had  to  be  aided.  The 
priest  had  suffered  in  no  other  way  than  through  fright. 
On  the  road  to  the  house,  I  was  informed  that  the  coach- 
man drove  down  to  the  usual  ford.  The  horses  had  been 
accustomed  to  pass  it  so  frequently,  that  they  plunged 
into  it  without  observing  that  it  was  a  furious  current. 
Just  below  the  ford,  a  bar  reached  across  the  stream.  The 
horses  were  frightened  with  the  unusual  fury  and  foaming 
of  the  current,  and  plunged,  and  were  immediately  car- 
ried over  the  bar,  and  the  disaster  happened  in  this  way. 


The  Heretic.  139 


CHAPTER  XL 

THE  HERETIC. 

THE  following  morning  I  had  a  visit  in  my  own  room 
from  the  Conde  before  breakfast.  He  saluted  me  gravely 
and  with  great  deference.  'Ton.  are  an  astonishing  man," 
said  he,  "and  if  I  believed  in  destiny,  I  should  be  com- 
pelled to  suppose  that  fate  had  somehow  united  the  influ- 
ence of  your  star  with  mine.  You  may  not  have  known 
that  I  have  suffered  among  my  best,  in  fact,  my  only 
friends,  for  retaining  in  my  family  such  a  young  man,  a 
heretic,  a  republican,  of  the  same  nation,  and  participating 
the  same  sentiments,  no  doubt,  with  men  who  are  now 
united  with  the  rebellious  Creoles  in  an  insurrection, 
against  my  government.  I  have  vindicated  your  integrity. 
I  have  indignantly  repelled  charges  against  you,  as  a  dan- 
gerous man.  I  have  urged  obligations  of  such  a  nature  as 
could  never  be  repaid.  With  respect  to  fears  from  an- 
other quarter,  they  might  be  excusable  in  Don  De  Oli,  but 
I  would  hope  that  nothing  could  ever  influence  my  daugh- 
ter to  do  violence  to  her  standing  and  religion  by  the 
thought  of  a  misalliance.  You  have  been  made  aware 
how  incompatible  we  have  considered  your  nation,  religion 
and  condition  of  life  with  mine.  I  feel  it  necessary  to  be 
perfectly  frank  with  you.  I  have  admired  your  character, 
at  the  same  time  I  entertained  these  views.  I  have  suf- 


140  Robert  Gordon. 

fered  so  much  from  suspicion,  my  government  having  had 
to  encounter  charges  diametrically  opposite,  and  the  father 
and  Don  De  OH  have  had  so  much  to  say  against  your 
residence  here,  that  I  had  yesterday,  after  seeing  you  with 
my  daughter  at  the  widow's  cottage,  determined  to  break 
with  you,  and  dismiss  you.  I  found  on  inquiry  of  her  that 
this  meeting  was  merely  accidental.  Eeturning  from  that 
meeting,  you  have  triumphed  over  us  again.  We  appear 
to  be  plunged  into  danger  only  to  bring  you  to  our  rescue. 
It  was  a  noble  return  to  Don  De  Oli  for  the  insult  of  an 
hour  before.  1  owe  you  my  life  in  common  with  the  rest. 
Even  the  father  admits  that  he  is  ashamed  to  see  you. 
My  wife  and  daughter  are  quite  recovered  this  morning. 
Our  proverb  says  that  'Words  are  wind.'  I  am  so  peculiarly 
situated  that  I  know  not  how  to  frame  words  to  thank  you. 
If  money  would  discharge  my  obligation,  and  you  would 
receive  it,  I  would  soon  wipe  out  the  score.  We  all  feel  as 
we  ought,  and  you  should  place  all  our  distrust  of  you 
merely  to  circumstances,  and  our  peculiar  position.  Shall 
I  be  still  plainer?  My  daughter  probably  feels  too  much, 
though,  as  I  have  said,  I  have  no  fears  that  either  of  you 
would  depart  from  the  decorum  expected  from  both.  She 
is  my  all,  the  apple  of  my  eye.  There  is  not  an  alliance  that 
fits  us  in  all  this  government  but  that  of  Don  De  Oli.  He 
is  rich,  noble,  brave,  and  stands  high  in  the  favor  of  the 
government,  of  the  same  race  and  religion,  in  short,  com- 
patible in  every  respect.  I  grant  you  to  be  worthy  in  the 
endowments  of  nature,  but  I  need  not  contrast  you  with 
him  in  some  particulars.  My  first  object  ought  to  be  my 
own  fame  and  honor.  The  next  dearest  point  on  earth  is, 
to  see  my  daughter  united  to  Don  De  Oli,  to  continue  my 
race  and  honors  when  I  am  no  more.  I  put  it  to  yourself 
to  weigh  these  circumstances.  These  evil  times,  upon 
which  we  are  fallen,  give  them  an  invincible  pressure  at 


The  Heretic.  141 

this  time.  It  distresses  me  to  tell  you  that  I  was  fore- 
warned the  result  of  permitting  your  stay  in  my  family. 
I  flattered  myself  that  my  daughter  would  see  all  these 
things  as  I  see  them.  I  perceive  that  I  mistook,  from  a 
blind  confidence  in  her  pride.  You  have  heen  too  long  and 
too  intimately  known  to  her  for  her  repose.  I  acquit  you 
from  my  heart  of  everything  that  is  not  perfectly  correct 
and  honorable  in  your  intercourse  with  her.  But  if  you 
were  to  leave  now,  even  after  you  have  saved  her  a  second 
time,  she  is  but  a  woman,  and  time  will  operate  upon  her 
as  on  the  rest.  The  peace  and  honor  of  my  family  are  now 
in  your  hands.  I  have  tried  you  sufficiently  upon  the  score 
of  compensation.  I  can  offer  you  nothing,  and  you  must 
rest  satisfied  with  the  applause  of  your  own  heart.  And 
in  your  country,  which  I  believe  to  be  as  you  represent  it, 
great  and  rising,  such  a  mind  as  yours  cannot  fail  to  find 
its  place,  and  meet  its  reward.  Were  you  a  royalist  and  a 
Catholic,  untitled  and  without  a  peso,  you  should  fight 
Don  De  Oli,  for  I  do  not  believe  that  you  want  courage, 
and  you  should  be  my  son-in-law.  I  can  only  mourn  as  it 
is,  your  unchangeable  perseverance,  and  leave  you  to  infer 
my  wishes." 

The  undisguised  and  frank  admissions  of  the  Conde 
placed  the  only  course  clearly  to  my  view.  I  might  regret 
as  bitterly  as  I  would  the  obstacles  of  prejudice,  nation, 
birth,  wealth  and  religion.  But  these  obstacles  were  not 
the  less  real,  or  unchangeable.  My  conscience  admitted 
that  they  existed  everywhere.  I  painfully  felt  that  I  loved 
Isabel,  but  I  hope  that  I  love  honor  and  duty  more.  I  ad- 
mitted, then,  to  him  in  reply,  that  I  had  stayed  too  long 
in  the  family,  if  not  for  his  daughter's  peace,  at  least  for 
my  own;  that  I  was  well  aware  of  all  the  obstacles  of 
which  he  had  been  pleased  to  remind  me,  but  that  I  was 
no  swindling  adventurer  to  take  advantage  of  his  con- 


142  Robert  Gordon. 

fidence;  and  that  I  would  repair  my  fault  as  fast  as  pos- 
sible, by  leaving  his  family  and  returning  to  my  own 
country,  never,  I  hope,  to  leave  it  again.  I  assured  him 
that  my  residence  for  even  this  short  time  in  his  country 
had  learned  me  one  great  practical  lesson,  and  that  was, 
suitably  to  prize  everything  that  appertained  to  my  own. 
He  politely  tried  to  disguise  his  joy  at  this  determina- 
tion, and  the  old  topic  of  compensation  was  resumed,  and 
disposed  of  as  formerly.  I  felt  no  unwillingness  to  receive 
under  the  name  of  salary,  a  sufficient  sum  to  enable  me  to 
return  to  the  United  States.  I  confess  that  the  thought 
more  than  once  flashed  across  my  mind  of  joining  ttfe 
patriots ;  but  my  only  clear  and  fixed  purpose  was,  to  return 
home.  My  departure  was  fixed  to  take  place  in  three 
days  from  that  time,  and  I  somewhat  sternly  requested  the 
Conde  that  during  that  time  I  might  not  meet  the  mem- 
bers of  a  family  where  I  seemed,  to  be  so  dangerous,  and 
that  I  might  be  served  in  my  own  apartment.  He  ap- 
peared to  feel  much  mortified,  that  a  person  who  had 
rendered  him  such  signal  services  should  seem  to  be 
driven,  without  compensation  and  almost  in  disgrace, 
from  his  family.  The  father,  he  understood,  since  the 
affair  of  last  evening,  had  felt  a  more  earnest  desire 
to  converse  with  me  on  the  subject  of  religion.  Pos- 
sibly he  might  present  views  of  the  subject  which  had 
never  occurred  to  me,  as  I  admitted  that  I  was  very 
little  acquainted  with  the  points  in  dispute  between 
their  church  and  ours.  If  I  should  yet  see  cause  to  change 
my  religion,  all  his  views  in  regard  to  my  departure  might 
be  reversed.  He  requested  me  to  receive  the  father  with  a 
docile  mind,  and  a  heart  open  to  conviction.  He  promised 
to  ascribe  my  departure  to  motives  most  honorable  to  me, 
and  to  notify  my  other  pupils  accordingly,  and  then  left 
me. 


The  Heretic.  143 

In  establishments  like  this  news  flies  rapidly.  Every 
person  in  and  about  the  house  knew  in  half  an  hour  that  I 
was  to  leave  them  shortly.  If  I  might  estimate  my 
standing  here  by  the  conduct  of  these  amiable  people,  I 
had  been  a  personage  of  no  small  consideration  in  the  pal- 
ace. These  people  are  naturally  affectionate,  and  there  was 
a  strife  among  them  who  should  render  me  the  most  kind- 
ness. The  affectionate  Fergus  had  tears  in  his  eyes  when 
he  brought  in  my  breakfast.  "God  bless  yer  honor," 
said  he,  "ye  ought  to  kill  the  swaggering  young  Don,  and 
instead  of  that,  ye  are  going  to  break  the  heart  of  Isabel. 
Satan  roast  them  all  but  her.  Don't  ye  save  their  lives 
once  and  again,  and  drag  out  the  young  Don  by  the  whis- 
kers, and  the  father,  devil  roast  him !  like  a  drowning  rat 
there  from  the  top  of  the  coach,  and  what  do  they  do,  but 
drive  ye  out  of  the  house  like  a  mad  dog  ?  Be  Jasus !  ye 
have  only  to  say  one  mass,  and  scorch  the  whiskers  of  the 
puppy,  and  ye  will  be  cock  of  the  roost,  after  all.  By 
St.  Patrick,  yer  honor,  Isabel  is  worth  that  much  and 
then  I  will  serve  ye  forever  and  the  day  after.  At  any 
rate,  if  ye  are  wilful  about  saying  the  mass,  as  it  is  like 
ye,  go  where  ye  will,  if  ye  will  let  me,  I  go  with 
ye,  and  I  have  told  them  all  as  much."  "Certainly,  Fer- 
gus," said  I,  "you  may  go  with  me  if  you  choose;  but  I 
have  been  used  to  serving  myself,  and  have  no  use  for  a 
servant,  and  no  means  to  maintain  one;  but  if  you  choose 
to  connect  yourself  with  my  fortunes,  I  will  always  do  the 
best  I  can  for  you."  "That's  all  I  want,"  said  he,  "and 
you  shall  see  if  I  am  any  loss  to  you.  As  for  money, 
Isabel  and  her  mother,  the  kind  souls,  have  taken  care  to 
provide  for  that  case.  Isabel  says  to  me,  'Go  with  him, 
Fergus ;'  and  the  tears  fell  from  her  eyes  like  rain ;  'and  if 
you  love  Isabel  show  it  by  being  kind  to  him  and  taking 
good  care  of  him.*  And  she  put  into  my  hand  a  bag,  so 


144  Robert  Gordon. 

heavy  and  full  of  doubloons,  and  she  said,  'Fergus,  put  it 
in  your  trunk,  and  apply  the  money  to  his  use,  for  the  sake 
of  Isabel  and  the  Holy  Virgin/  So,  yer  honor  sees, 
there  is  no  want  of  money  at  all,  at  all." 

After  breakfast  I  took  my  accustomed  walk,  and  in  the 
course  of  it  I  was  joined  by  Father  Jerome.  His  manner 
toward  me  was  wholly  changed.  The  haughty  distance, 
with  which  he  had  hitherto  treated  me,  was  converted 
into  the  most  winning  suavity,  which  he  knew  so  well  how 
to  assume.  He  reverted,  with  the  politest  expressions  of 
thanks,  to  the  scene  of  the  evening  before,  remarking  that 
he  had  now  another  reason  to  wish  my  conversion,  since  he 
understood  that  I  was  about  to  return  to  the  land  of  licen- 
tiousness and  heresy,  and  that  his  sense  of  right  told  him 
that  the  most  worthy  return  he  could  render  me  for  having 
saved  his  life  was  for  him  in  return  to  attempt  to  save  my 
life  in  eternity.  "Do  you  feel  docile,  my  son?"  "Cer- 
tainly, holy  father,"  I  answered ;  "I  shall  only  ask  as  much 
patience  and  teachableness  from  you  if  I  find  anything  to 
reply  to  in  your  arguments."  "Listen,  then,"  said  he, 
"and  I  will  condense  my  views  of  the  subject  as  much  as 
possible. 

"It  is  admitted  by  your  teachers  that  the  Holy  Koman 
Catholic  Church  is  that  form  of  doctrine  and  discipline 
transmitted  by  Christ  to  His  apostles.  The  fathers  were 
all  of  this  church.  No  other  was  thought  of  for  a  long  suc- 
cession of  centuries.  A  few  wild  and  transient  heresies, 
indeed,  sprang  up  in  different  ages  of  that  period,  but  so 
wild  that  they  fell  by  their  own  absurdities,  or  were  dis- 
persed before  the  wholesome  instructions  of  our  church 
like  chaff  before  the  wind.  Our  church  was  clearly  and  in- 
disputably the  church  universal,  down  to  those  times  of 
ignorance,  heresy  and  misrule  which  you  call  the  Refor- 
mation. We  have,  then,  the  most  appropriate  sanction 


The  Heretic.  145 

which  can  belong  to  this  subject,  antiquity,  in  our  favor. 
Compared  with  the  age  of  your  church,  all  your  new-born 
heresies  are  but  as  the  prophet's  gourd,  the  birth  of  a 
night,  and  to  die  in  a  night.  We  have  in  our  church  the 
keys  of  the  kingdom,  and  of  death,  and  hell.  Christ  said 
unto  us,  'On  this  rock  I  will  build  my  church,  and  the  gates 
of  hell  shall  not  prevail  against  it.'  When  He  thus  laid  the 
cornerstone  of  our  edifice  He  gave  the  keys  to  St.  Peter,  to 
be  transmitted  down  through  the  church  universal  in  the 
hands  of  the  Holy  Father,  as  the  lawful  successor  of  St. 
Peter.  He  opens  and  no  man  shuts ;  and  shuts  and  no  man 
opens.  We  are  in  no  danger  of  your  heresies  and  wild  mis- 
takes, for  we  have  an  infallible  interpretation  of  the 
Scriptures  in  the  expoundings  of  an  infallible  church. 
Christ  promised  to  be  with  His  church  to  the  end 
of  the  world,  to  enlighten  and  guide  it  into  all  truth; 
and  the  proof  that  this  promise  is  always  fulfilling, 
is,  that  our  church  is,  and  has  been  one,  entire,  and  iden- 
tically the  same  in  all  ages,  countries  and  conditions  of  the 
world.  The  same  prayers  are  recited,  the  same  doctrines 
taught,  the  same  venerable  rites  solemnized  in  the  Vatican, 
in  the  Indies,  in  Africa,  in  the  wildernesses  of  the  New 
World;  the  same  extreme  unction  now  infuses  confidence, 
joy  and  peace  into  the  departing  soul  of  the  obedient  son 
of  the  church  in  this  day  as  it  did  in  the  times  of  the  first 
Christian  emperors.  Thus  we  transmit  a  wholesome  and 
unchangeable  doctrine,  consoling  sacraments,  and  an  un- 
divided faith  from  age  to  age.  While  the  dying  penitent  is 
uttering  Ex  profundis  here,  he  knows  that  hundreds  of  the 
faithful  departing,  of  all  languages  and  climes  are  utter- 
ing the  same  words. 

"What  is  the  fruit  of  your  so-called  Eeformation?  A 
thousand  sects  of  wild  and  gloomy  fanaticisms,  with  names 
too  barbarous  to  be  translated  into  Catholic  Spanish  and 


146  Robert  Gordon. 

Latin.  The  very  catalogue  of  your  heresies  is  the  most 
horrible  vocabulary  that  ever  yet  found  its  way  through  the 
organs  of  speech.  Such  are  the  fruits  of  a  thousand  igno- 
rant and  presumptuous  founders  of  sects,  interpreting  the 
Scriptures  for  themselves,  the  multiplication  of  sects  upon 
sects,  until  in  the  midst  of  doubt,  wrangling  and  disputa- 
tion, the  great,  mass  of  the  people  end  in  unbelief.  Look, 
my  son,  at  our  rites.  How  awful  and  imposing !  See  our 
priests  giving  the  consecrated  wafer,  and  uttering  the  sub- 
lime words,  'Depart,  Christian  soul!'  Behold  the  coun- 
tenance of  the  penitent,  who  feels  all  the  tranquillity  of 
pardoned  sin,  brightening  with  faith,  hope  and  love,  the 
moment  before  it  is  rendered  unchangeable  in  death.  You 
charge  us  with  the  worship  of  images.  We  deny  the 
charge  and  throw  it  back  in  the  face  of  its  inventors.  We 
venerate  the  Eedeemer,  and  the  mother  of  Christ,  and  the 
saints.  We  have  preserved  by  holy  and  primitive  paint- 
ings, their  countenances  as  they  were  in  the  flesh.  In- 
stead of  reserving  them  for  the  private  chamber,  or  the 
cabinet  alone,  we  place  them  in  our  churches.  We  look  at 
them  and  our  hearts  are  strongly  called  out  toward  the 
archetypes  of  these  dim  resemblances  that  are  in  glory. 
We  remember  their  toils  and  temptations  along  the  same 
thorny  path  which  we  are  traveling.  We  contemplate  the 
visages  of  the  holy  pilgrims  that  have  arrived  at  our  home 
before  us,  and  we  bedew  these  images  with  the  tears  of 
memory  and  tenderness.  This  is  our  worship  of  images. 
You  call  us  persecutors,  and  you  have  persecuted  as  often 
as  you  have  had  the  power.  Ask  your  Quakers.  Search 
the  records  of  those  times,  when  superannuated  and  broken 
down  old  women  were  burned  as  witches.  Look  at  the 
church  record  of  Geneva,  and,  in  fact,  of  every  place  where 
you  have  had  the  power.  We  grant  you,  it  is  right  that 
the  great  Master  of  the  granary  should  sit  in  it  with  his 


The  Heretic.  147 

fan  in  his  hand,  and  that  the  chaff  should  burn  with  un- 
quenchable fire.  The  true  Catholic  Church  never  did,  and 
never  could  persecute.  Whatever  she  has  done,  has  been 
only  to  apply  an  energetic  medicine  to  a  desperate  case, 
to  purge  away  the  leaven  of  heresy,  and  avail  herself  of 
that  temporal  sword  which  has  been  given  her  to  vindi- 
cate her  own  glory  and  advantage/' 

I  cannot,  and  it  would  be  useless  to  follow  him  in  his 
long  and  labored  harangue.  In  the  same  spirit  he  dis- 
cussed and  apologized  for  the  decrees  of  the  councils,  the 
Protestant  charges  of  corruption  and  tyranny  in  the 
papacy,  and  in  the  religious  houses,  the  sale  of  indulgences, 
the  doctrine  of  purgatory,  of  the  Eeal  Presence,  and  the 
other  peculiar  dogmas  of  the  Romish  church.  Sometimes 
his  arguments  were  ingenious,  and  his  apologies  and  de- 
fences plausible.  Sometimes  he  availed  himself  of  the 
most  palpable  sophisms ;  as,  for  instance,  he  was  an  asserter 
of  infallibility  in  the  church  universal,  and  not  alone  in  the 
Pope,  the  head  of  the  church.  "I  do  not  say/'  said  he, 
"that  any  individual,  or  any  portion  of  this  church  is  in- 
fallible. Every  constituted  member  of  the  church  is 
fallible.  But  the  whole  taken  together,  is  infallible,  and 
so  of  the  rest."  He  insisted  most  earnestly  on  the  patron- 
age which  the  Catholic  Church  had  always  afforded  to 
genius,  talent,  investigation  and  discovery,  and  adverted  to 
the  great  inventions  as  having  been  universally  of  Catholic 
origin.  He  spoke  of  the  unequalled  advancement  of  the 
fine  arts  under  the  fostering  care  of  Leo  X.  He  summed 
up  all  his  rhetoric  and  called  in  aid  all  his  insinuations,  in 
syllogizing  one  grand  ultimate  maxim.  "You  cannot  but 
admit,  and  your  church  does  admit,  that  we  may  be  right. 
You  know  our  grand  maxim,  Point  de  salut  hors  de 
I'eglise.  (There  can  be  no  salvation  out  of  the  church.) 
You  admit  that  there  may  be  salvation  in  ours.  Upon 


148  Robert  Gordon. 

your  admitted  principles,  we  are  safe,  and  you  are  not. 
My  dear  son,  who  has  yielded  temporal  salvation  to  ine? 
Oh !  allow  me  to  be  instrumental  in  the  salvation  of  your 
soul.  The  Condesa  and  her  daughter  pray  for  you,  and 
wrestle  with  the  saints  and  the  mother  of  God  for  your 
conversion.  No  words  could  describe  the  joy  which  I 
should  carry  them,  could  I  inform  thorn  that  a  wanderer 
so  dear  to  them  was  reclaimed  and  brought  home  to  the 
fold.  There  is  nothing  which  you  might  not  hope  for, 
from  them  or  me,  and  that  of  the  country.  You  should 
stay  with  us  and  I  should  fold  you  to  my  bosom  as  a  son." 
I  clearly  saw  how  well  he  understood  the  weak  points  of 
human  nature,  and  the  seductions  which  would  be  most 
likely  to  seize  upon  any  unfortified  part  of  the  heart.  In 
addition  to  his  own  entreaties,  he  availed  himself,  at  the 
close,  of  all  the  tricks  of  tears  and  exclamations.  On  the 
whole,  I  inferred  that  he  had  "two  strings  to  his  bow."  If 
I  were  dismissed  he  seemed  to  feel  that  he  should  make 
enemies  of  the  Condesa  and  her  daughter,  and  rivet  the 
friendship  of  the  Conde  and  Don  De  Oli,  and  that  the 
case  would  be  reversed  by  my  conversion.  The  glory  of 
adding  an  obstinate  heretic  to  the  church  appeared  to  weigh 
down  the  scale  in  favor  of  my  conversion. 

It  was  but  right  to  be  grateful  for  such  disinterested 
concern  for  my  soul,  and  I  said  as  much  to  the  father. 
"But,"  said  I,  "though  I  may  not  be  able  to  follow  you 
with  so  much  address  as  you  have  done,  yet  you  will  allow 
me  to  suggest  the  thoughts  which  occurred  to  me  upon 
some  of  your  positions.  I  shall  take  them  up  in  scriptural 
order,  the  last  shall  be  first,  and  the  first  last.  My  under- 
standing and  my  heart  equally  revolts  against  that  bigoted 
maxim,  Point  de  salut  hors  de  I'eglise.  If  I  could  believe 
such  a  maxim  for  a  moment,  I  should  doubt  at  once  the 
wisdom,  benevolence  and  the  mercy  of  the  Universal 


The  Heretic.  149 

Father.  Neither  has  your  church  alone  the  use  of  that 
miserable  sophism  which  you  build  on  that  maxim. 
Among  those  sects  in  our  church  to  which  you  have  ad- 
verted with  so  little  courtesy,  I  believe  nearly  the  half  of 
them  have  followed  your  church  in  shutting  the  gates  of 
heaven  against  all  but  the  staunch  and  devoted  of  that  sect. 
What  a  humiliating  spectacle,  to  see  a  few  beings,  so  frail, 
so  blind,  so  erring,  as  man,  sitting  down  to  scan  the  pur- 
pose of  the  Eternal  in  a  council,  laying  down  a  few  points 
of  belief  reduced  to  writing,  and  arrogating  to  themselves 
to  say  that  every  one  who  does  not  believe  what  we  have 
here  written  will  be  damned.  A  thousand  pagan  sects  are 
found  to  hold  the  same  maxim.  Alas !  it  is  but  too  deeply 
laid  in  the  heart  of  man,  and  each  one  of  these  pagan  sects 
could  urge  the  same  conclusions  upon  you  and  me,  with  the 
same  force  as  your  church.  Your  syllogism  would 
avail  your  church,  if  yours  was  the  only  one  that 
could  make  use  of  it.  Your  church  has  patronized  science, 
arts,  discoveries  ?  Witness  Galileo,  compelled  by  the  united 
voice  of  the  church  declared  by  its  infallible  organ  and 
head,  the  Pope,  to  renounce  on  his  knees  the  true  system 
of  philosophy  of  the  universe,  the  glimpses  of  which  had 
dawned  upon  his  mind.  Witness  the  proscribed  books, 
now  interdicted  in  that  region  where  we  are  among  which 
are  the  works  of  Locke  and  Newton,  not  to  mention  num- 
berless others,  the  most  venerable  names  that  science 
records.  The  age  of  Leo  the  Tenth  I  grant  you  was  the 
age  of  painting  and  architecture.  But  the  march  of  events, 
the  progress  of  the  human  mind  and  the  accumulated  tax, 
which  bigotry  had  extorted  from  ages  and  nations,  collected 
at  Rome  and  squandered  in  a  period  which  your  own 
writers  admit  to  have  been  the  most  abandoned  that  your 
church  had  ever  seen,  would  have  produced  the  paintings 


150  Robert  Gordon. 

of  Kaphael,  and  the  church  of  St.  Peter,  if  the  religion 
had  been  that  of  pagan  Kome. 

"As  to  the  persecuting  spirit  of  your  church,  I  dare  not 
trust  my  feelings  for  a  moment  to  discuss  it.  If  our 
church  has  imitated  yours  in  its  worst  features  in  the 
smallest  degree,  so  much  the  less  honor  for  it.  But,  sir, 
our  persecutions,  to  yours,  is  hut  a  drop  to  the  ocean. 
Alas,  sir,  I  have  read  a  description  of  an  auto  da  fe  by  a 
member  of  your  own  church.  Do  I  not  know,  that  to  the 
most  revolting  hypocrisy,  adding  the  last  refinement  of 
cruelty,  when  you  deliver  over  the  wretched  victim  to  the 
secular  power,  to  be  roasted  alive !  you  charge  that  power 
not  to  hurt  him,  even  so  much  as  a  hair  of  his  head. 
You  cannot  suppose  that  I  have  not  read  the  history  of  the 
wretched  Albigenses  and  Waldenses,  inhabiting  the  moun- 
tains and  valleys  of  the  Cevennes.  Who  of  us  have  not 
heard  of  the  manner  in  which  you  have  treated  the 
Huguenots?  Who  of  us  have  not  read  the  massacre  of 
St.  Bartholomew?  Our  very  children  learn  their  rudi- 
ments from  a  book  which  represents  in  coarse  but  striking 
representation  the  burning  of  the  venerable  Eogers,  his 
wife  and  nine  children  looking  on  the  dismal  spectacle. 
I  am  willing  to  believe,  what  I  hear  the  liberal  and  en- 
lightened laity  of  your  church  affirm,  that  with  the  ad- 
vancing, improved  and  more  merciful  spirit  of  the  age, 
your  church  has  remitted  some  of  its  sternness  and  dog- 
matism. But  an  exclusive  and  arrogant  spirit  seems  to 
have  been  so  deeply  interwoven  with  the  texture  of  your 
church  that  you  cannot  lay  it  aside.  You  transmit  it 
from  country  to  country,  and  from  age  to  age.  I  have  no 
dread  of  any  church  that  is  not  in  power.  But  I  would 
not  wish  to  see  the  renewed  experiment  of  the  universal 
power  and  influence  of  the  Catholic  Church  as  it  was  in  the 
twelfth  and  thirteenth  centuries,  lest  I  should  see  the 


The  Heretic.  151 

spirit  of  that  age  return  unbroken  and  entire.  I  should 
dread  its  ascendancy  in  any  country.  In  its  present  form, 
I  consider  it  a  form  of  worship  only  adapted  to  the  merid- 
ian of  an  absolute  despotism.  We  see  it  only  displaying 
the  properties  of  an  exotic,  in  my  own  country.  For  the 
rest,  sir,  trying  your  dogmas  on  other  principles,  the  idea 
of  God,  existing  in  a  morsel  of  pastry,  offered  in  a  thou- 
sand places  at  the  same  time, — a  god  created  by  a  priest, 
offered  up  to  himself,  as  a  daily  and  universal  sacrifice  and 
expiation  of  sin, — is  a  dogma  that  I  will  not  discuss,  for  I 
respect  religion,  and  I  have  deep  and  fixed  opinions  upon 
the  subject.  Your  church,  you  say,  is  an  infallible  whole, 
made  up  of  fallible  parts,  and  this  is  an  axiom  worthy  of 
the  church  that  proscribed  Galileo  for  teaching  the  true 
doctrine  of  the  universe.  Your  prayers  to  the  saints,  your 
purgatory,  your  bank  of  merit,  and  other  points  of  that 
class,  it  is  unnecessary  to  take  into  account.  We  may  lay 
them  aside  with  other  unimportant  points,  upon  which  you 
have  touched.  I  am  ready  to  confess  and  regret,  that  other 
churches  have  been  corrupt,  as  well  as  yours;  but  in  none 
other  can  you  find  as  many  dark  and  scandalous  records  as 
in  yours  at  the  time  when  the  sale  of  indulgences  was  au- 
thorized, and  that  change,  which  we  call  the  Eeformation, 
commenced.  I  close  by  questioning  the  truth  of  the  posi- 
tion with  which  you  began,  the  antiquity  of  the  Catholic 
Church,  as  it  is  now  constituted.  Even  were  it  correct, 
it  would  prove  nothing  or  too  much.  Paganism  is  almost 
as  old  as  creation.  If  mere  precedence  in  error  proves 
anything,  your  church,  on  this  ground,  would  have  to  re- 
nounce its  claims.  But  error  and  falsehood  do  not  ap- 
proximate toward  truth  as  they  grow  old.  The  truth  of 
yesterday's  discovery  is  older  than  creation,  for  it  existed 
forever.  But  that  enormous  structure  of  dogmas,  rites, 
pretensions  and  assumptions,  which  was  reared  in  the 


Robert  Gordon. 

days  of  popes  and  antipopes,  when  kings  and  emperors 
held  the  stirrup  of  the  one  infallible,  that  had  succeeded 
in  putting  down  the  other,  was,  I  believe,  comparatively 
of  very  recent  date.  I  have  no  objection  to  fine  religious 
paintings  in  a  church.  One  thing  in  your  church  has  my 
unqualified  praise.  I  admire  the  architecture  of  it,  its 
dim  religious  light,  its  massive  grandeur,  as  being  better 
adapted  to  produce  religious  impressions  than  ours. 
Neither  am  I  displeased  with  some  of  the  imposing  forms 
of  your  worship.  My  heart  subscribes  to  most  of  your  forms 
of  prayer.  Your  church  appeals,  in  my  judgment,  too  much 
to  the  senses;  ours  too  much  to  the  intellect.  A  medium 
ought  to  be  adopted  on  this  point.  Could  your  church 
renounce  its  arrogant  pretensions,  some  of  its  absurd,  im- 
possible and  contradictory  dogmas,  and  yield  something 
to  the  enlightened  spirit  of  the  age,  there  is  much  in  it 
that  I  admire.  Had  I  lived  in  the  days  of  primitive  Chris- 
tianity, I  should  have  belonged  to  the  Catholic  Church  as 
it  was  then.  But,  as  it  is  now,  never.  Gladly  would  I 
gain  the  good  will  of  the  Condesa  and  her  daughter.  But 
you  could  not  induce  me  to  prevaricate  upon  such  an 
awful  subject  could  you  endow  me  with  all  the  delights  of 
Mahomet's  fancied  paradise.  My  motto  is,  'I  will  hold 
fast  to  my  integrity,  and  not  let  it  go/  No  man  ever  had 
his  convictions  changed  by  an  auto  da  fe.  It  might 
operate  to  make  a  man  confess  with  his  lips  what  his  heart 
detested.  It  might  operate  to  concentrate  hypocrisy  and 
produce  more  seeming  ardor  in  the  new  convert  than  in  the 
old  proselyte.  God  can  destroy  or  mould  the  mind 
anew,  but,  reverently  speaking,  Omnipotence  itself  cannot 
make  me  believe  against  my  impressions  and  contrary  to 
my  convictions.  All  avowals  that  have  been  extorted  by 
torture,  fear,  avarice  or  ambition,  could  have  been  only 
miserable  prevarications.  In  the  simple,  intellectual  and 


The  Heretic.  153 

scriptural  forms  of  my  church  I  have  entire  confidence  and 
respect.  In  the  region  where  I  was  born,  if  any  practical 
scale  of  measurement  could  be  instituted,  I  have  not  a 
doubt  that  there  is  more  regard  to  God,  the  sanctions  of 
an  invisible  world,  and  the  real  and  stern  requirements  of 
morality,  in  a  single  society  there  than  I  have  seen  here  in 
this  whole  region.  We  have  been  mutually  plain.  I  hope 
my  frankness  will  be  no  more  offensive  to  you  than  yours 
was  to  me.  I  have  been  bred  to  respect  the  truth  more 
than  anything  else.  You  see,  sir,  what  my  convictions  are, 
and  whether  I  am  not  likely  to  live  and  die  clinging  to 
them,  the  thing  which  you  call  heresy." 

The  father  was,  as  I  have  said  a  courtier,  accustomed  to 
control  the  expressions  of  his  feelings.  But  on  this  oc- 
casion he  could  neither  control  his  countenance  nor  his 
words.  It  was  obvious  that  my  frank  reply  had  stirred 
deeply  his  inward  depravity.  His  face  was  strongly 
marked  with  anger  and  vindictive  feelings.  "Satan, 
avoid  I"  muttered  he.  "I  must  relate  to  the  Condesa  and 
her  daughter  that  this  is  a  most  hopeless  case.  Thou  art 
in  the  gall  of  bitterness  and  bonds  of  iniquity.  Words  on 
such  as  thee  are  thrown  away."  In  this  temper  he  left 
me.  As  generally  happens  in  these  profitable  debates, 
each  party,  in  reporting  the  result,  claims  the  victory,  and 
sings  a  Te  Deum  over  his  foiled  antagonist. 


154  Robert  Gordon. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

DRIVEN  AWAY. 

IN  the  course  of  the  day  I  received  a  kind  and  consid- 
erate letter  from  the  father  of  the  Misses  Vonpelt,  whom  I 
had  repeatedly  met  at  the  Conde's.  He  had  impressed  me 
from  the  first  as  an  amiable,  affectionate  and  kind- 
hearted  German.  I  had  understood  that  he  was  uni- 
versally beloved  in  Durango.  From  his  letter  I  inferred 
that  he,  too,  suffered  from  the  suspicion  of  being  a  repub- 
lican, and  he  declared  himself  ready  to  act  and  suffer  for 
the  rights  of  man.  It  breathed  a  strain  of  kindness  toward 
me,  and  something  like  indignation  for  the  treatment 
which  he  understood  I  had  recently  received  at  the  hands 
of  the  Conde.  He  offered  me,  for  the  present,  an  asylum 
in  his  noble  house  in  Durango,  and  a  most  cordial  invita- 
tion to  come  and  stay  with  him,  and  continue  the  tuition 
of  his  daughters.  The  letter  enclosed,  besides  a  hand- 
some gratuity,  the  amount  of  my  bill  up  to  that  time. 

Soon  after  receiving  this  letter  I  had  a  visit  from  the 
father  of  my  pupil,  Dorothea,  whom  I  had  never  seen  be- 
fore. He  was  called  Don  Jose  Maceo,  and  appeared  to  be  a 
plain,  bluff,  soldier-like  man,  to  whom  great  wealth,  and 
the  custom  of  habitual  deference,  had  given  the  habit  of 
thinking,  speaking  and  acting  without  the  least  reserve  or 
restraint.  He  paid  my  bill,  and  made  his  own  commen- 


Driven  Away.  155 

taries  upon  the  manner  in  which  I  had  been  reported  to 
have  been  treated  in  the  Conde's  family.  He  took  care  to 
inform  me  that  he,,  too,  was  rich,  noble,  a  Gauchupine, 
and  accustomed  to  consult  nobody's  judgment  but  his 
own.  An  acquaintance  of  his  from  a  neighboring  town 
had  recently  converted  all  his  estate  into  cash  and  loaded 
a  number  of  mules  with  bullion  and  escaped  to  the  United 
States.  He  was  anxious  to  act  in  the  same  way,  and  avoid 
the  chances  and  dangers  of  a  revolution,  which  he  antici- 
pated. 

With  very  little  circumlocution  he  let  me  into  the  flat- 
tering secret  that  his  daughter  had  taken  a  particular 
fancy  to  me,  so  strong,  in  fact,  that  she  was  willing  to  sur- 
render to  me,  on  the  simple  condition  of  becoming  her 
husband,  her  fair  person  and  the  reversion  of  her  im- 
mense fortune.  "In  short,"  said  he,  "that  matter  once 
settled,  there  would  be  no  dispute  about  property.  This 
daughter  is  my  all;  and  whatever  is  mine,  not  only  in  time 
will  be  hers,  but  I  should  have  nothing  separate  from  my 
son-in-law  even  now."  I  discovered  that  he  had  been 
many  years  stationary,  and  had  become  indolent  and  timid, 
and  in  wishing  to  fly  to  the  United  States  with  his  wealth, 
he  wanted  some  person  in  whom  he  could  have  confidence, 
to  go  before  him  in  the  expedition.  He  had  fixed  his  eye 
upon  me  as  a  suitable  person  in  this  point  of  view,  and  to 
this  motive,  together  with  his  habitual  custom  of  being 
swayed  by  the  wishes  of  his  daughter,  I  owed  the  very 
extraordinary  and  flattering  proposition  which  he  now 
made  me. 

He  took  care  to  inform  me  that  this  was  not  a  soli- 
tary case;  that  a  Mr.  Vance,  a  fine-looking  young  man 
from  the  States,  had  recently  passed  through  the  country, 
and  that,  during  a  temporary  residence  in  Durango,  he  had 
engaged  the  affections  of  a  wealthy  young  Spanish  lady, 


156  Robert  Gordon. 

who  took  care  to  have  him  duly  apprised  of  the  premises ; 
that  he  had  accepted  the  offer,  had  married  the  young 
lady,  and  was  now  living  happily  in  an  adjoining  province. 
His  daughter,  he  remarked,  was  much  wealthier  than  the 
young  lady  in  question,  and  had  property  enough  for  us 
both.  Whimsical  and  singular  as  were  his  views  of  things 
in  other  respects,  it  was  clear  that  he  had  no  small  degree 
of  cleverness  in  dressing  up  his  proposition  in  a  manner 
to  render  it  tempting  to  a  person  much  more  eligibly  set- 
tled than  I  was.  Had  I  been  a  mere  speculator  and  ad- 
venturer, whose  only  object  was  to  establish  myself  in  the 
world,  imagination  could  hardly  have  pictured  a  more 
tempting  offer.  No  restrictions  were  coupled  with  the 
proposal,  such  as  had  been  in  the  parallel  example,  which 
had  been  quoted,  in  which  the  young  man  was  obliged  to 
turn  Catholic,  and  remain  in  the  country.  The  very  prop- 
osition to  me  was,  to  carry  my  bride  and  all  her  wealth 
to  any  part  of  the  United  States  upon  which  I  should  fix. 
Apart  from  the  vast  fortune  of  Dorothea,  she  was  far  from 
being  unattractive,  either  in  person  or  manners.  She 
could  dance  the  fandango,  and  play  the  guitar  with  the  best 
of  them;  and  under  particular  circumstances  of  feeling, 
complexion  and  dress  she  was  at  times  even  beautiful. 
Besides,  her  undisguised  partiality,  which  she  had  taken 
no  pains  to  conceal  almost  from  the  first  of  our  acquaint- 
ance, was  very  flattering  to  the  feelings  of  a  young  man. 
She  was  rather  haughty,  it  is  true,  but  promised  to 
be  a  person  whom  kindness  would  easily  mould  to 
my  wishes.  The  vision  flashed  across  my  mind,  of  re- 
turning with  my  bride,  bedecked  with  laces  and  jewels,  to 
my  native  village.  I  well  knew  that  my  father's  family 
and  myself  had  our  enviers  here.  What  a  delightful  thing 
it  would  be  to  confound  them  with  all  our  undisputed 
wealth  and  grandeur !  But,  besides  that  I  had  always  had 


Driven  Away.  157 

a  fixed  detestation  of  marriages  merely  mercenary.  I 
was  abundantly  shielded  from  temptation  by  other  feelings, 
of  sufficient  energy  to  exclude  the  slightest  inclination 
toward  these  proposals.  But  there  was  a  very  un- 
pleasant difficulty  in  the  way  of  making  my  feelings  known 
to  my  visitor.  He  seemed  to  have  taken  it  for  granted, 
when  he  made  me  the  offer,  that  it  was  one  so  entirely 
flattering,  and  of  advantage  so  unmixed,  that  there  was 
no  place  for  hesitation.  I  blundered  through  the  best 
apologies  which  I  could  possibly  invent,  while  I  declined 
his  very  flattering  and  tempting  proposals.  I  had  the 
satisfaction  to  see,  that  though  very  much  surprised,  he 
did  not  seem  offended.  It  occurred  to  him,  he  said,  that 
different  people  saw  things  in  different  lights,  and  that 
his  daughter  was  of  a  character  intrinsically  too  frank 
and  noble  to  have  degraded  herself  by  offers  of  the  kind, 
although  they  had  been  refused. 

To  M.  de  Vonpelt  I  returned  thanks  for  his  politeness, 
and  as  I  had  always  had  no  small  degree  of  fraternal  re- 
gard toward  his  amiable  daughters,  and  had  considered 
him  a  man  of  feeling,  intellect,  and  character,  very  differ- 
ent from  the  rest,  I  informed  him,  that,  for  the  time  dur- 
ing which  I  should  sojourn  in  Durango,  I  would  trespass 
on  his  hospitality. 

Early  in  the  morning  of  the  day  before  that  in  which  I 
was  to  leave  the  family  of  the  Conde,  the  duenna  brought 
me  a  written  card  from  the  Condesa  requesting  me,  at  any 
hour  in  the  afternoon  that  I  should  name,  to  meet  her  and 
her  daughter  in  her  chamber,  to  which  the  duenna  would 
conduct  me.  I  sat  down  to  write  a  reply.  '  She  placed 
her  plump  and  laughing  figure  before  me  in  the  chair,  and 
filled  every  moment  with  incessant  chatter  about  me  and 
her  dear  young  mistress,  harping  continually  upon  the 
strain,  how  confidently  she  had  hoped  that  the  father  con- 


158  Robert  Gordon. 

fessor  would  have  converted  me ;  that  if  I  could  only  have 
gotten  from  the  Holy  Virgin  a  heart  a  little  more  tractable, 
I  might  have  remained  in  spite  of  all,  and  married  her 
dear  young  mistress;  and  that  she,  for  her  part,  as  she 
told  her  mistress,  longed  to  see  what  beautiful  children 
would  be  where  husband  and  wife  were  both  so  beautiful. 
She  let  me  know,  in  her  way,  that  she  thought  that  peo- 
ple ought  to  have  complexions  rather  dark,  in  order  to  be 
good  Catholics,  for  that  the  Misses  Vonpelt,  who  were  fair, 
like  me,  were  none  too  firm  in  the  faith,  and  that  she  was 
afraid  her  mistress  was  rather  too  fair  to  be  a  good 
Christian;  that  had  she  been  a  young  man,  like  me,  she 
would  have  changed  her  religion  three  times  a  day  to 
gratify  the  wishes  of  so  sweet  a  girl  as  her  mistress. 
"Now,"  said  she,  "you  love  her,  I  will  swear  it  by  our  Lady 
of  the  Pillar.  I  know  it  by  the  very  turn  of  your  eye.  I 
have  told  my  young  lady  as  much.  And  now,  in  a  mere 
freak  of  wilfulness,  because  you  will  not  have  the  advantage 
of  a  mass  for  your  soul,  you  are  going  to  part  from  each 
other,  both  to  be  broken-hearted." 

I  had  never  expected  to  meet  Isabel  again,  and  had  for- 
tified my  mind  to  this  belief.  I  had  said  of  the  parting, 
with  the  royal  sufferer,  "Surely  the  bitterness  of  death  is 
past."  But  the  thought  of  parting  from  her,  whose  image 
was  engraven  on  my  heart,  and  was  so  intimately  associated 
with  all  my  day  and  night  dreams,  was  so  painful  that  I 
embraced  the  prospect  of  one  more  interview  with  her,  as  a 
condemned  convict  receives  a  reprieve  at  the  place  of  exe- 
cution. And  yet  it  would  be  only  to  go  over  all  the  bitter- 
ness of  looking  for  the  last  time  again  on  a  countenance  so 
dear.  As  I  had  fairly  passed  through  this  thing  once,  I 
sometimes  thought  it  would  be  best  to  inform  her  that  it 
would  be  unadvisable  for  us  to  meet  again.  But  I  returned 
an  affirmative  answer  to  the  request  of  the  Condesa.  I 


Driven  Away.  159 

had  been  flattered  with  possessing  the  philosophy  of  pa- 
tience. I  now  saw  how  unjustly  that  poor  virtue  had  been 
ascribed  to  me.  My  pulse  bounded  with  fever  heat  and 
rapidity,  and  I  looked  at  my  watch  every  ten  minutes. 
When  at  last  the  duenna  arrived  to  conduct  me  to  them, 
I  was  obliged  to  moderate  my  joy,  by  saying  that  it  was 
probably  for  one  poor  half-hour,  and  all  would  be  past 
again,  and  I  should  be  just  as  desolate  as  before. 

Both  the  mother  and  daughter  were  pale  when  I  entered, 
and  the  solemnity  of  a  funeral  was  in  their  countenances. 
"After  all  you  have  done  for  us,"  said  the  Condesa,  "I 
felt  willing  to  indulge  my  daughter  in  this  parting  inter- 
view, though  I  fear  it  had  been  better  for  both,  had  it  not 
taken  place  at  all.  It  would  be  alike  useless,  and  contrary 
to  my  feelings,  to  attempt  to  disguise  from  you,  who  under- 
stand it  all  very  well,  the  state  of  things  here.  I  still 
cherished  some  latent  hopes  that  the  father  might  give  us 
some  encouragement  that  you  might  one  day  conform  to 
our  church.  That  hope  is  not  only  past,  but  the  father 
pronounces  you  inveterate  and  incorrigible  in  your  opin- 
ions, and  so  bitter  in  your  feelings  in  regard  to  our  worship 
as  to  be  altogether  dangerous  to  be  allowed  intercourse  with 
the  faithful.  It  is  true,  the  force  of  truth  extorts  from 
him  the  admission  that  he  believes  you  would  not  violate 
your  given  word,  or  attempt  to  make  proselytes,  after  you 
had  pledged  yourself  not  to  do  so.  I  regret  that  you  could 
not  manage  the  father  a  little;  and  yet  that  stern  inde- 
pendence, that  fearless  regard  for  your  principles,  even 
though  wrong,  is  a  trait  that  we  all  know  how  to  appreciate. 
It  seems  fated  that  you  must  leave  us,  and,  it  is  probable, 
forever.  I  feel,  and  the  Conde  feels,  that  we  are  on  the 
summit  of  a  volcano.  He  well  knows  that  we  are  sur- 
rounded by  enemies  on  every  side.  How  much  we  need 
some  one  like  you,  to  be  always  with  us !  I  am  happy  to 


160  Robert  Gordon. 

see  in  the  decided  manner  in  which  you  act  on  all  those 
points  where  a  little  forbearance  or  concealment  might 
have  changed  the  face  of  things  here,  that  the  pain  and 
regret  of  parting  is  all  on  our  side.  Had  it  been  other- 
wise, you  certainly  might  have  indulged  yourself  inno- 
cently in  courses  which  would  have  silenced  your  enemies, 
and  admitted  of  your  staying."  I  answered  her  "that  I  had 
least  of  all  expected  from  her,  intimations  that  it  was 
possible  for  an  upright  man  to  conceal  or  keep  back  any- 
thing in  a  position  like  mine.  The  temptations  to  do  this, 
powerful  as  they  were,  I  had  overcome.  I  am  not  con- 
scious that  I  did  not  treat  the  father  confessor  respect- 
fully. I  had  the  same  right  to  be  plain  with  him  in  regard 
to  his  faith,  as  he  had  with  me  in  regard  to  mine.  I  was 
willing  to  exercise  mutual  forbearance.  I  was  reluctant 
to  the  interview.  You  must  know  that  I  am  under  no 
obligations  to  the  father.  The  gracious  manner  which  he 
saw  fit  to  assume  on  that  occasion  was  as  little  pleasing  to 
me  as  his  constant  distance,  I  may  say  rudeness,  has  always 
been  before.  You  can  never  know,  madam,  nor  will  honor 
allow  me  to  reveal,  what  I  am  suffering  in  parting  from 
some  of  the  members  of  this  family.  But  even  to  gain 
their  favor,  were  it  not  like  boasting,  I  would  say  to  gain 
heaven  itself,  I  would  neither  conceal  nor  prevaricate  on 
the  score  of  my  religious  principles."  "Well,  daughter," 
said  the  Condesa,  "our  time  is  spending;  if  you  wish,  as 
you  said,  to  utter  some  final  thanks  and  adieus,  let  us  not 
prolong  the  pain  of  this  parting." 

"You  are  right,  sir,"  returned  Isabel,  "right  even  in  your 
firmness,  or,  as  the  father  would  call  it,  obstinacy. 
I  earnestly  wished,  that  your  convictions  might  have 
yielded  to  the  arguments  of  the  father;  and  yet,  such  are 
the  contradictions  of  the  heart,  had  you  done  it,  my  esti- 
mation of  you  would  have  been  lowered.  Our  principles 


Driven  Away.  161 

ought  to  be  engraven  on  the  heart.  I  respect  a  well-prin- 
cipled perseverance,  even  in  the  wrong.  But  are  we  sure, 
my  mother,  that  the  sentiments  of  this  man  are  wrong? 
Who  hath  given  to  one  party  the  power  to  make  an  un- 
erring -decision?  If  conduct  be  a  test  of  principles,  who 
devotes  himself  so  readily  ?  Who  is  it  that  neither  consid- 
ers nor  spares  himself  in  the  moment  of  danger?  The 
very  point  upon  which  he  has  been  so  much  abused,  re- 
fusing to  fight  Don  De  Oli,  and  which  was  so  readily  placed 
to  other  motives,  was,  I  doubt  not,  a  sacrifice  of  feeling  to 
principle.  Oh!  If  the  other  had  something  of  the  real 
courage  of  this  man !  But  I  forget,  sir,  that  you  are 
present.  It  was  in  kindness  that  you  saved  me  from  per- 
ishing in  the  water.  Would  that  I  had  died,  for  my  heart 
is  insupportably  heavy  at  the  thought  of  this  parting.  I 
surely  wish  you  all  good  things,  and  yet  I  am  so  selfish  I 
could  wish  that  you  had  some  share  with  me  in  this  pain  of 
parting."  As  she  said  this,  the  tears,  which  had  been 
repressed  by  strong  effort,  flowed  freely,  and  the  face  of  the 
mother  was  covered. 

After  a  moment's  pause,  and  apparently  a  successful 
effort  at  composure,  she  resumed:  "This,  then,  is  the  last 
time  I  shall  see  you  on  the  earth  ?  But  young  as  I  am,  I 
have  seen  that  it  is  the  course  of  everything  below;  disap- 
pointment, vexation,  misery,  the  bitterness  of  parting; 
and  it  is  only  death  that  brings  repose.  Be  it  so.  I  will 
wait  patiently  for  that  grand  cure.  I  had  flattered  myself 
that,  somehow,  things  might  be  otherwise.  But  it  is  good 
for  me  early  to  pull  down  with  my  own  hands  my  fairy 
palaces,  and  I  submit.  Go  and  be  elsewhere,  and  to  others, 
the  same  excellent  young  man  that  you  have  been  to  me. 
May  no  other  luckless  girl  feel  as  I  do  at  parting  from 
you.  My  life  will  be  consecrated  to  remembrance.  Why 
should  I  wish  you  to  retain  a  remembrance  of  me,  as  pain- 


1 62  Robert  Gordon. 

f ul  as  mine  of  you  ?  Go,  forget  me  and  be  happy.  But  I 
can  never  forgot  you.  I  will  remember  you,  to  devote  my- 
self to  others,  as  you  have  done  for  me." 

"And  is  this  the  way,"  I  asked,  "to  send  me  away  happy  ? 
Is  this  the  way,  Dona  Isabel,  to  fortify  me  for  this  parting  ? 
I  would  have  been  thankful  had  you  sent  me  away  with  re- 
proaches. I  might  have  recalled  reproaches  or  indifference 
in  aid  of  efforts  to  forget,  when  away.  I  intended  that 
nothing  should  have  wrung  from  me  confessions,  which 
may  be  harmless,  as  things  are  now,  but  are  utterly  unavail- 
ing. Why  shoul-d  I  reveal  feelings,  against  which  I  have 
honorably  struggled,  but  with  so  little  effect  ?  The  agoniz- 
ing sensations  which  I  have  so  long  experienced,  and  I  ex- 
piate my  offence  by  enduring,  in  all  its  bitterness,  the  mal- 
ady which  I  have  scoffed  at  as  an  unreal  evil,  the  origin  of 
ennui.,  or  of  pampered  weakness.  There  is  but  one  motive, 
for  which  I  wish  to  live.  You  shall  hear  of  me  again. 
Your  father  has  reminded  me  once  and  again,  of  my  con- 
dition, and  of  my  obscurity.  You  shall  hear  that  I  have 
gained  glory,  not,  perhaps,  in  the  way  in  which  you  would 
have  chosen  that  I  should  gain  it.  But  I  will  gain  glory 
in  the  way  of  my  principles,  and  your  hearts  in  the  end, 
shall  be  compelled  to  approve  the  course  I  take.  My  pole- 
star  shall  be  your  image.  My  talisman  shall  be  the  word 
Isabel.  That  word  shall  excite  me  to  daring.  That  word 
shall  give  me  patience  for  toil.  Heaven  avert  the  omen, 
that  you  shall  be  again  in  danger.  But  it  may  be  that 
you  shall  hear  from  me  again,  and  in  the  hour  of  your 
greatest  need." 

But  I  ought  not  to  tire  you  with  these  details,  which 
after-circumstances  have  consecrated  in  delightful  remem- 
brance, but  which  must  always  be  tedious  to  parties  less  in- 
terested. The  silky-milky  adventures  of  this  sort  ulti- 
mately lead,  as  you  will  hear,  to  important  results;  and 


Driven  Away.  163 

however  they  may  seem  to  you  in  the  relation,  were  no  joke 
to  us  at  that  time.  However  that  may  be,  it  grew  to  be 
a  scene,  before  it  was  over.  I  saw  plainly  enough  that  the 
high-born  and  high-spirited  young  lady  was  completely 
subdued,  and  manifested  her  feelings  without  control. 
We  parted  a  great  many  times,  and  had  a  great  many 
adieus,  and  protestations  and  tears,  and  avowals  of  hatred 
of  Don  De  Oli  and  declarations  of  unalienable  love,  and 
assurances  that  I  should  be  taken  at  my  word,  that  they 
should  hear  from  me  again.  The  mother  dissolved  the 
meeting  by  making  an  effort,  and  leading  her  daughter 
away. 

It  would  be  difficult  for  me  to  recall  the  remembrance, 
and  still  more  difficult  for  me  to  describe  the  desolation  of 
heart  which  I  felt  when  I  returned  to  my  apartment. 
I  looked  at  the  books  which  we  used  to  read  together, 
and  the  door  through  which  she  used  to  enter,  for 
her  recitations;  the  apartment,  the  earth,  and  all  the  fu- 
ture assumed  to  me  a  funeral  gloom.  The  gloom  and  dis- 
tress of  my  countenance  were  transferred  to  the  honest  and 
affectionate  Fergus,  who  begged  that  he  might  accom- 
pany me  wherever  I  went.  I  placed  before  him  all  the 
comforts  which  he  was  leaving ;  shelter,  security,  bed,  daily 
fare,  and  membership  in  a  respectable  family.  I  pointed 
out  the  uncertainty  and  precariousness  of  my  own  pros- 
pects. But  nothing  would  dissuade  him  from  his  purpose. 
"Besides,"  said  he,  "have  I  not  promised  the  jewel,  her  own 
sweet  self,  and  sworn  by  St.  Patrick  and  my  mother  that 
I  will  never  leave  ye?  And  do  ye  think  she  didn't  ask 
me  to  repeat  to  him  the  name  of  Isabel  sometimes.  Maybe, 
yer  honor,  as  I  know  the  ways  of  the  family,  I  can  slip  a 
bit  of  a  letter  backwards  or  forwards,  as  occasion  may 
serve.  But  as  to  drive  me  away  from  yer  honor,  I  have 
sworn  an  oath  upon  my  soul  against  it." 


164  Robert  Gordon. 

It  appeared  that  my  departure  made  a  great  sensation 
in  and  about  the  house,  for  every  servant  came  up  to  say 
adios,  and  to  ask  something  by  way  of  souvenir,  as  is  the 
custom  among  them.  Among  the  rest  came  the  duenna, 
apparently  staggering  under  the  weight  of  a  trunk.  I 
assisted  her  to  take  it  from  her  head,  and  when  she  had 
set  it  down,  even  her  joyous  face  was  sad.  She  crossed 
her  arms  over  her  breast,  and  exclaimed :  "What  a  terrible 
affair  this  love  makes !  See,  I  have  brought  something 
from  the  young  lady  and  her  mother.  I  know  not  what  it 
is,  but  they  say  they  will  consider  it  unkind  in  you  not  to 
accept  it.  Surely  you  will  not  hurt  them  by  sending  it 
back.  My  poor  young  mistress  has  done  nothing  but  weep 
ever  since  she  heard  that  you  were  to  go.  And  when  Don 
De  OH  speaks  to  her,  what  a  look  she  gives  him !  She  has 
gone  to  her  couch,  weeping,  poor  thing.  Some  folks  are 
over  wilful ;  but  I  see,  that  if  they  insist  upon  her  marrying 
Don  De  Oli,  they  will  only  kill  her,  after  all." 

I  found  the  trunk  to  contain  an  assortment  of  the  finest 
articles  of  a  traveler's  apparel,  complete  changes  of  dress  of 
the  richest  texture  and  workmanship,  neatly  marked,  and 
arranged  for  immediate  use.  At  the  bottom  was  a  small 
cabinet,  exquisitely  wrought,  and  inlaid  with  pearl.  From 
its  prodigious  weight  I  calculated  its  contents.  It  was 
filled  with  gold  coins;  a  gold  watch,  brilliantly  set 
with  diamonds;  and  what  I  valued  far  more  than  all 
the  rest,  a  letter  which  I  knew  from  the  firm  and  neat 
Italian  hand  to  be  from  Dona  Isabel.  I  give  it  in  English, 
just  as  it  was  written,  and  perhaps  no  unfavorable  sample 
of  her  progress  in  the  language. 

"To  SENOR  EGBERT  GORDON,  ESQ.  : 

"SiR — This  being  the  first  letter  which  I  have  written 
to  my  instructor  in  English,  you  will  not  expect  much 


Driven  Away.  165 

correctness.  My  heart  is  too  heavy,  to  allow  me  to  think 
of  that.  My  mother  and  I  have  thought  it  not  wrong 
to  send  you,  as  a  traveler,  dear  to  us  both,  and  parting 
from  us,  the  little  matter  contained  in  this  box.  They 
may  be  of  use  to  you.  To  us,  considering  the  danger  of 
the  times,  and  our  condition,  even  if  Providence  had  not 
given  us  abundance,  they  could  be  of  none.  Some  part  of 
each  of  the  articles  of  dress  was  wrought  with  my  mother's 
needle  and  mine.  The  cypher  on  the  back  of  the  watch 
is  my  mother's  hair  and  mine  united.  She  has  always 
been  your  friend,  and  for  her  sake,  if  not  mine,  you  will 
value  it.  When  you  look  at  the  hours,  assure  yourself  that, 
however  swiftly  and  pleasantly  yours  may  pass,  mine  will 
be  anxious,  heavy,  and,  as  your  poet  says, 

"  'Slow  as  the  stealing  progress  of  the  year/ 

"The  rest  was  dug  from  those  mountains  near  us,  which 
you  have  so  much  and  so  often  admired,  and  may  remind 
you,  when  you  are  far  away,  that  they  will  still  lift  their 
heads  in  unalterable  grandeur,  and  repose  above  our  man- 
sion, and  remind  me  of  the  thunder  storm  that  came  over 
their  blue  summits,  in  the  progress  of  which  storm,  I 
admitted,  for  the  first  time,  that  I  loved  you.  It  would 
be  all  dross  to  me.  But  in  the  selfish  and  cruel  world, 
through  which  you  may  have  to  make  your  way,  they  may 
be  of  use  to  you.  You  will  not,  surely,  refuse  these  trifling 
matters  from  a  simple  and  confiding  young  lady,  whose  life 
you  have  twice  saved,  and  who  would  be  glad  of  some  little 
memorial  in  return.  You  need  have  no  scruples,  for  my 
father  not  only  approved,  but  suggested  the  offering. 
With  all  you  have  done  for  me,  I  remember  but  few  words 
of  distinguished  kindness  that  you  have  said.  I  wish  I 
could  remember  more.  You  will  not  be  so  cruelly  proud, 
as  to  determine  to  have  all  the  obligation  on  your  side. 


1 66  Robert  Gordon. 

I  know  not,  but  you  may  remember  me  as  forward  or  fool- 
ish in  my  affection.  I  have  driven  away  that  bitter  appre- 
hension, by  saying  it  is  the  last  opportunity  I  shall  have 
to  humble  myself  in  that  way.  ISABEL." 

The  only  token  of  remembrance  of  which  I  was  capable 
of  returning  was  a  number  of  copies  of  our  best  poets, 
which  I  had  brought  with  me  from  the  States. 

"DONA  ISABEL: 

"I  have  none  of  that  cruel  pride,  which  would  incline 
me  to  return  what  has  been  so  kindly  sent  me.  The 
articles  derive  a  value  from  the  feeling  with  which  they 
were  sent,  superior  even  to  their  intrinsic  utility  and  beauty. 
I  am  possessed  of  too  little  to  make  you  any  adequate 
return.  You  have  loved  our  poets,  and  I  have  taught  you 
to  understand  them.  When  you  look  into  these  volumes, 
besides  opening  to  you  their  magnificent  and  delightful 
creations,  they  may  remind  you,  that  before  I  knew  you, 
they  were  all  my  treasure,  the  only  thing  I  cared  for. 
Much  as  you  are  used  to  homage,  and  much  as  you  merit 
it,  even  you  can  receive  but  all.  You  say,  that  I  have  said 
to  you  but  few  words  of  distinguished  kindness.  Surely 
you  know,  dear  Isabel,  that  strong  and  deep  emotions  are 
apt  to  be  silent.  Those  brilliant  eyes  look  too  deep  into 
the  heart,  not  to  have  seen  what  was  at  the  bottom  of 
mine.  If  I  have  not  given  utterance  to  my  feelings  it  is 
because  words  were  too  poor  to  do  it,  or  because  timidity, 
or  respect,  or  honor,  or  all  of  them  united  forbade  the 
use  of  them.  While  on  the  contrary,  all  your  expressions 
of  gratitude  for  my  poor  service,  all  the  considerate  kind- 
ness of  your  generous  nature,  might  be  uttered  to  me 
without  hazarding  self-respect  or  dignity.  They  were 
always  viewed  by  me  as  the  condescensions  of  a  mind 


Driven  Away.  167 

intrinsically  as  elevated  as  your  rank  and  condition.  What 
in  me  would  have  been  arrogance,  or  violation  of  con- 
fidence, in  you  was  but  the  expression  of  benevolence. 
I  shall  look  on  the  watch,  without  needing  the  bright  tresses 
in  the  back  to  remind  me  of  the  lovely  head  from  which  they 
were  shorn.  I  am  sure,  too,  that  I  shall  be  sufficiently  aware 
of  the  heaviness  of  the  hours,  without  watching  the  progress 
of  the  second  hand.  But  it  shall  impress  one  useful  lesson. 
I  will  ask,  how  would  Isabel  wish  me  to  employ  my  time? 
Time,  in  this  view,  will  become  a  consecrated  thing.  You 
will  be  beneficient  in  exalting  my  aims,  and  causing  me 
to  be  so.  The  continual,  tender,  and  mournful  remem- 
brance of  you,  will  be  to  me  as  an  invisible  guardian  spirit, 
ever  present  to  render  me  such  as  I  should  be." 

I  sent  the  letter  and  package,  made  my  little  arrange- 
ments for  the  morrow's  journey,  threw  myself  on  my 
couch,  and  would  have  gladly  quieted  the  tumultuous  tide 
of  my  feelings,  and  the  feverish  throbbings  of  my  heart 
in  repose,  as  deep  as  that  of  the  honest  Fergus,  who  snored 
at  my  side.  But  the  pensive  youth  knew  the  character 
of  the  "sweet  restorer/'  and  how  readily  on  her  "downy 
pinions,  she  flies  from  woe,"  I  made  a  painful  effort  to 
sleep.  I  applied  all  the  remedies  that  I  knew,  but  all  to 
no  purpose.  I  arose  and  wrote  a  few  verses  to  Isabel  and 
left  them  with  the  duenna  for  her  mistress. 

A  cart  had  been  ordered  by  the  Conde,  10  carry  my 
baggage  to  Durango.  I  had  arranged  with  Fergus  to  have 
my  horses  saddled,  and  my  valise  ready  before  the  stars 
should  have  disappeared  from  the  morning  sky.  I  had 
taken  my  adieu  of  the  Conde  the  preceding  night,  and  had 
hoped  to  be  off  in  the  morning,  without  being  seen  by  any 
of  the  family.  We  were  not  as  early  as  we  had  hoped  to 
be,  and  as  I  descended  under  the  shade  of  those  noble 


1 68  Robert  Gordon. 

sycamores,  where  I  had  so  often  seen  the  light  figure  of 
Isabel  in  her  morning  promenades,  the  birds  were  already 
twittering  on  every  branch.  I  looked  up  to  the  windows 
of  my  peaceful  apartments,  and  sighed  my  adieu.  We 
rode  slowly  and  silently  down  the  lawn,  and  the  ruddy 
streaks  of  advancing  morning  were  broadening  toward  the 
zenith.  I  was  just  beginning  to  congratulate  myself,  that 
we  would  likely  clear  the  vicinity,  without  any  of  those 
last  words  and  parting  recognitions,  that  in  such  cases 
are  to  me  inexpressibly  painful.  Another  pang  was  still 
in  reserve  for  me.  Just  on  the  margin  of  the  stream  at 
the  ford,  and  precisely  at  the  point  where  I  had  rescued 
them  both  from  the  water,  I  saw  the  Condesa  leaning  on 
her  daughter's  arm.  I  was  obliged  to  pass  them,  and,  of 
course,  could  not  do  it  without  a  salutation.  I  gave  my 
horse  to  Fergus,  and  went  to  meet  them.  Isabel  was 
dressed  with  more  richness  than  I  had  ever  seen  her  before. 
A  blaze  of  diamonds  in  her  head-dress  only  served  to  render 
the  contrast  of  unwonted  paleness  and  anxiety  spread  over 
her  countenance  more  striking.  The  general  spirit  of 
her  eye  had  given  place  to  languor,  almost  resembling 
disease.  The  usual  salutations  on  both  sides  were  heavy 
and  embarrassing,  and  Isabel  seemed  to  have  slept  the 
preceding  night  no  more  than  I  had.  The  Condesa 
regretted  that  any  circumstance  should  have  rendered  it 
expedient  that  we  should  take  such  an  early  start.  "But," 
she  said,  "Fergus  told  us  that  you  expected  to  be  off  by 
the  light  of  the  stars.  Isabel  took  a  severe  cold,  when 
you  rescued  her  from  the  water,  and  has  been  ill  since  that 
time.  Having  been  restless  through  the  past  night,  we 
thought  the  cool  air  of  the  morning  might  refresh  her, 
and  our  morning  walk  naturally  brought  us  to  this  place, 
so  associated  with  the  remembrance  of  you;  and  we  are 
Here  to  witness  your  final  departure." 


Driven  Away.  169 

I  replied  that  my  eagerness  to  be  off  so  early,  could 
not  be  construed  to  arise  from  my  wish  to  leave  friends 
'so  dear,  and  that  she  must  put  it  to  the  right  motive,  a 
desire  to  avoid  the  pain  of  another  parting.  "It  is  wrong, 
now,"  interrupted  Isabel,  "that  two  such  good  persons, 
who  feel  toward  each  other  as  you  do,  should  occupy  this 
sad  moment,  and  in  this  place,  too,  with  mere  words  of 
cold  ceremony  that  mean  nothing.  I  wish  to  detain  you, 
sir,  but  one  moment,  with  a  simple  question.  Affirm  or 
deny,  and  I  will  believe  all  you  say,  as  though  it  came 
straight  from  Heaven.  I  blush  to  admit,  that  I  listened 
to  the  idle  prattle  of  servants.  But  it  is  circulated  in  our 
family,  that  in  resentment  to  my  father,  or  from  other 
motives,  you  are  going  to  reside  in  Durango,  and  ar£  to 
marry  either  Dorothea  or  the  elder  Miss  Vonpelt.  I 
am  weak,  selfish,  or  whatever  you  please  to  call  it,  to 
such  a  degree,  as  to  hope  that  it  may  not  be  so.  Just  say 
it  is  so,  or  not,  and  I  will  not  detain  you  another  mo- 
ment ?"  "Certainly,  I  have  no  such  thought,"  I  answered. 
"I  should  have  supposed  that  Dona  Isabel  would  have 
done  more  justice  to  the  efforts,  which  she  must  have 
seen  me  making  to  suppress  my  feelings,  than  to  suppose 
me  capable  of  such  a  rapid  transition,  as  either  of  these 
suppositions  must  take  for  granted.  I  have  thought  of 
staying  a  few  days  in  Durango,  in  the  house,  and  at  the 
invitation  of  M.  de  Vonpelt,  in  order,  if  possible,  to  obtain 
a  little  more  tranquillity,  and  to  arrange  my  plans  for  the 
future.  The  thought  has  not  occurred  to  me  of  marrying 
either  of  the  parties,  even  if  their  consent  were  first 
obtained." 

"See,  now,"  said  she,  "that  slanderer,  Don  De  Oli, 
affirmed  that  you  were  offered  the  hand  and  fortune 
of  Dorothea,  and  that  you  had,  as  a  mere  fortune  hunter, 
nccepted  it;  that  no  young  man  from  your  country 


170  Robert  Gordon. 

ever  suffer  such  an  opportunity  to  make  a  fortune,  escape 
him.  I  thank  you.  You  have  moved  a  weight  from  my 
mind."  As  she  said  this,  I  noticed  that  her  voice  became 
faint,  and  that  her  lips  and  cheeks  were  as  white  as  her 
muslin  robe.  She  leaned  on  her  mother's  arm,  and  I 
involuntarily  advanced  toward  her.  She  put  her  hand  to 
her  head,  as  if  for  reflection,  and  feebly  added,  "I  had 
a  word  more  to  say  to  you,  but,  mother,  I  must  sii"  I 
saw  that  she  was  fainting,  and  I  received  her  unconsciously 
in  my  arms.  I  instantly  bore  her  to  the  stream,  filled  my 
hand  with  water,  and  poured  it  on  her  face.  My  first 
effort  to  restore  her  produced  only  spasms,  and  not  restora- 
tion. The  shrieks  of  the  mother  soon  summoned  a  host 
of  the  Conde's  people,  and  among  them  the  Conde  and 
Don  De  OH,  to  the  spot.  The  daughter  had  begun  to 
recover,  and  was  sitting  on  the  sward  while  I  was  rubbing 
her  temples. 

The  Conde  approached  me,  and  with  a  voice  of  furious 
sternness,  bade  me  begone,  while  he  ordered  his  servants 
to  convey  his  daughter  to  the  house.  "This  is  too  much, 
sir,"  said  he,  turning  to  me.  "You  are  determined  to 
make  a  scene  of  everything.  My  weak  wife,  and  weaker 
daughter,  may  have  consented  to  this  interview,  after  you 
had  taken  a  formal  leave  of  us  all.  But  you  are  watching 
your  chances  to  kill  my  daughter,  forsooth,  because  you 
have  saved  her  life.  Yflu  seem  to  wish  that  your  triumph 
over  her  understanding  may  become  conspicuous  to  every 
member  of  my  establishment.  Go,  sir,  and  know,  that  by 
this  deportment,  you  have  relieved  me  from  the  load  of 
obligation,  and  canceled  the  debt.  We  learn  that  you  have 
an  appointment  with  M.  de  Vonpelt.  Know,  sir,  that 
he  is  proscribed  as  a  traitor.  A  traitor  he  has  been  all 
along.  For  we  learn  that  he  has  long  since  transferred 
his  property  to  Great  Britain,  and  thus  he  has  avoided 


Driven  Away.  171 

confiscation.  He  escaped  yesterday,  to  join  the  rebels  in 
their  den  of  treason  on  Mount  Mextpal.  If  he  should  be 
overtaken,  he  dies  an  honorable  but  immediate  death,  by 
the  spear.  Certain  considerations  prevent  your  arrest,  and 
had  you  left  me  without  this  last  interview  with  my  wife 
and  daughter,  I  might  have  retained  confidence  in  you. 
But  it  is  too  evident  that  you  seek  these  opportunities. 
He  who  can  be  treacherous  in  one  instance,  can  in  another. 
I  am  now  perfectly  aware  that  I  have  been  the  dupe  of 
your  artifices  too  long." 

"And  I,  too,"  cried  Don  De  Oli,  "have  my  grievances, 
and  I  would  cancel  all  on  the  spot  were  it  not  more  humane 
to  allow  you  to  fly.  The  Conde  allows  you  twenty  days, 
within  which  you  must  make  your  escape  from  the  country. 
If  you  are  afterward  found  in  it,  you  will  be  considered 
as  any  other  traitor  and  rebel,  and  be  treated  accordingly." 
"Go,"  added  the  Conde,  catching  the  rage  of  the  furious 
young  man,  "your  associates  from  the  Comanches  have 
joined  the  rebels.  A  horde  of  assassins  from  your  country 
are  pouring  in  upon  the  frontiers.  It  is  fitting  that  yo'u 
should  be  among  them.  Treason  is  the  sport  of  the  people 
from  the  States.  You  ought  to  be  among  them.  But 
warn  them,  sir,  that  they  will  have  a  reckoning  with  me 
and  Colonel  Arredondo.  I  will  promulgate  the  law  for 
rebels  and  traitors  at  the  point  of  the  spear.  I  will  read 
them  lectures  upon  their  new-fangled  patriotism  in  letters 
of  blood." 

I  waited  until  he  got  through,  in  perfect  coolness. 
The  foolish  transports  of  these  two  men,  who  seemed 
willing  to  avenge  in  me  the  crimes  of  the  insurgents, 
restored  me  to  perfect  self-possession.  Said  I,  "Gentlemen, 
it  is  the  business  of  soldiers  to  fight,  and  not  to  fret,  scold, 
and  call  names,  like  old  women.  I  feel  somewhat  superior 
to  you  both.  I  explained  to  you  one  meeting  with  Dona 
Isabel,  when  I  fished  you  out  of  the  water.  I  saw  her 


172  Robert  Gordon. 

yesterday,  in  consequence  of  a  special  invitation  from  the 
Condesa.  I  have  the  card  yet.  Here  it  is,  sir.  Madam 
will  inform  you,  that  I  started  very  early  this  morning,  in 
order  to  preclude,  if  possible,  any  chance  of  meeting  any 
member  of  your  family.  The  meeting  was  accidental, 
unexpected,  undesired.  Your  daughter  fainted.  I  aided 
her,  and  should  do  it  again  in  the  same  case.  I  have 
thought  of  the  cause  of  the  patriots  before.  The  only 
impression  that  hindered  me  from  studying  their  motives, 
and  if  I  found  them  pure,  from  joining  them,  has  been, 
that  I  was  unwilling  to  be  in  arms  against  the  government 
of  Dona  Isabel's  father.  Your  outrages  have  severed  that 
tie.  I  am  a  patriot  from  principle.  If  there  be  such  a 
rising  as  you  describe,  and  headed  by  honest  men,  T  will 
join  it.  Should  I  ever  meet  with  you  in  hostile  array,  my 
hand  would  only  be  raised  to  defend  you.  But  for  you, 
Don  De  Oli,  nothing  would  please  me  more,  than  to  meet 
you  face  to  face  in  the  high  places  of  the  field,  where. 
no  compunctious  visitings  would  hold  back  my  arm.  I 
hope  we  shall  meet  again.  Adios,  to  you  both."  I  mounted 
and  Fergus  moved  to  do  the  same. 

"Stop,  there,"  cried  the  Conde.  "Go  back,  sir.  You 
belong  to  me.  There  is  no  reason  why  I  should  send 
another  traitor  to  the  rebels.  Dismount  and  go  back 
to  the  house.  And  you,  sir,"  added  he,  turning  to 
me,  "would  be  arrested,  and  in  the  mines,  without  a 
passport.  Here  is  one,  made  out  in  full  form.  It 
will  last  you  for  twenty  days,  and  no  more.  Within 
that  time  you  can  join  the  rebels  at  Mount  Mextpal,  or  leave 
the  country,  as  you  please.  There  is  your  other  horse,  sir, 
the  time  is  precious  and  I  wish  you  a  good  day." 


A  Rebel  Colonel.  173 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

A    REBEL    COLONEL. 

I  HAVE  thus  far  been  the  hero  of  my  own  story.  How- 
ever insipid  my  adventures  may  have  been  to  you,  they  are 
material  to  preserve  the  thread  of  my  story.  My  fortune 
from  now  on  will  be  linked  with  the  cause  of  the  patriots 
in  their  efforts  to  free  New  Spain.  You  will  find  them  to 
end  in  a  successful  revolution  which  wrested  this  great  and 
fair  portion  of  the  American  hemisphere  from  a  miserable 
and  blighting  despotism,  exercised  over  it  by  one  of  the 
most  bigoted,  ignorant  and  unprincipled  tyrants  that  ever 
swayed  the  Spanish  sceptre.  Before  I  take  that  brief 
retrospect,  which  the  order  of  events  will  compel  me  to 
take,  that  I  may  give  some  idea  of  the  rise  and  termination 
of  this  great  revolution,  so  far  as  I  am  connected  with  it, 
I  shall  first  give  you  an  outline  of  my  course  up  to  the 
time  when  I  joined  the  patriots. 

As  I  went  on  to  Durango,  it  may  naturally  be 
supposed  that  my  reflections  were  not  of  the  pleas- 
antest  kind.  I  had  been  deemed  of  a  mild  temper. 
I  had  proposed  to  myself  the  highest  model  of  for- 
bearance and  forgiveness.  No  curses,  "neither  loud 
nor  deep/'  came  to  my  lips.  But  I  amused  myself  by 
thinking  what  a  drubbing  I  would  give  Don  De  Oli,  in  the 
cause  that  I  was  determined  to  espouse.  I  then  thought  of 


174  Robert  Gordon. 

the  condition  in  which  I  had  last  seen  Dona  Isabel.  I 
meditated  the  depth  and  bitterness  of  love  without  hope. 
I  saw  the  necessity  of  a  resolution,  and  I  made  it.  "I  will 
show  them  that  I  am  a  man.  I  will  not  sink,  a  whining 
lover,  into  the  depths  of  despondency.  Had  Isabel 
thus  deemed  of  me  that  this  was  all  my  nerve,  she 
would  never  have  bestowed  on  me  a  second  thought.  I 
love,  and  at  this  moment  see  not  a  ray  of  hope.  What 
then  ?  Shall  the  future  be  obscured  in  impenetrable  dark- 
ness and  gloom?  There  is  duty.  There  is  a  glorious 
career.  What  have  such  wretches  as  Don  De  Oli  to  do  with 
the  iron  scourge,  shaken  over  this  oppressed  and  beautiful 
country?  I  have  seen  that  despotism  is  most  detestable. 
A  noble  country,  and  a  people  naturally  amiable  to  the 
highest  degree,  are  regarded  with  sovereign  contempt  by 
the  ignorant  nobles  who  govern  them  and  are  trampled 
into  the  dust.  Added  to  this,  there  is  the  still  more 
wretched  despotism  of  the  priests,  whose  object  is  to  fetter 
the  mind,  as  others  do  the  body ;  and  who  regard  every  ray 
of  light  let  in  upon  the  minds  of  the  people  as  so  much 
subtracted  from  their  kingdom  of  darkness.  My  princi- 
ples and  my  feelings  both  called  me  to  this  cause.  I  will 
gain  glory.  I  will  triumph  over  envy.  I  will  humble 
that  arrogant  intended  son-in-law.  Who  knows  but  that 
the  patriots  may  triumph,  and  I  may  not  again  be  of 
service  to  Isabel  and  her  mother?  But  how  will  Isabel, 
who  feels  the  ties  of  kindred  so  strong,  regard  me  in  arms 
against  her  father;  in  arms  against  a  despotism  and  hier- 
archy, both  of  which  all  her  associates  and  habits  have 
taught  her  to  consider  as  sacred?  Such  were  the  points 
on  which  I  soliloquized  as  I  rode  along.  I  settled  the 
point  with  myself  by  determining  to  do  my  duty.  If  the 
patriots  pursue  wrong  ends,  or  use  bad  means,  I  will  re- 
nounce the  cause.  If  Isabel  hears  and  approves,  it  is  well. 


A  Rebel  Colonel.  175 

But  if  she  should  not  eventually  subscribe  to  the  right,  I 
have  loved  an  illusion.  Did  she  not  generously  defend  me 
in  my  adherence  to  my  faith  ?  And  will  she  think  the  less 
of  me  for  consistency  here?  My  thoughts  ended  as  they 
began,  by  mingled  bitterness  toward  the  Conde  and  Don  De 
Oli  with  my  purpose.  I  thought  over  their  obligations  and 
contempt  with  which  they  had  answered  them. 

I  found  everything  in  Durango  in  an  uproar.  The 
public  ear  was  filled  with  rumors.  In  the  corner  of  the 
streets,  and  in  all  places  of  public  resort,  were  seen  groups 
of  ragged,  mean-looking  men,  with  lowering  brows,  and 
with  jealousy  and  apprehension  in  their  faces,  conversing 
together.  Patrols  of  armed  men  were  seen  in  the  streets. 
I  quickly  found  the  value  of  my  passport.  I  was  obliged 
to  produce  my  papers  at  every  turn.  I  found  it  necessary 
to  use  caution  in  my  inquiries  for  M.  de  Vonpelt.  By  good 
fortune  I  chanced  upon  the  acquaintance  of  a  surgeon 
from  the  United  States,  who  had  been  settled  for  some  years 
in  the  city.  I  found  him,  as  might  be  expected,  a  republi- 
can in  principles ;  but,  having  married  a  Spanish  lady,  and 
having  gained  considerable  property,  of  which  he  could  not 
now  dispose,  he  was  compelled  to  remain  in  the  city  on 
his  guard,  and  watch  the  course  of  events.  With  him  I 
could  converse  without  suspicion.  I  found  him  honest, 
hospitable  and  intelligent.  From  him  I  learned  that  M. 
de  Vonpelt  had  indeed  been  proscribed,  and  had  fled  with 
his  family  to  the  patriot  gathering  at  Mount  Mextpal.  He 
gave  me  the  most  accurate  directions  to  that  place.  The 
encampment  was  on  the  side  of  the  mountain,  which  was 
about  seventy  miles  from  Durango,  in  the  direction  of 
San  Antonio.  He  informed  me  that  at  the  latter  place 
there  was  another  patriot  encampment,  in  which  a  number 
of  adventurers  from  the  United  States  were  enlisted  under 
the  standard  of  the  Creoles,  and  engaged  in  actual  hostil- 


176  Robert  Gordon. 

ities  with  the  royal  government.  I  gained  from  him  much 
important  local  information  respecting  the  strength  of  the 
two  parties.  Through  him  I  made  all  the  necessary  prepa- 
rations for  my  journey.  I  sold  him  one  of  my  horses,  and 
purchased  a  mule  to  carry  my  baggage,  which  the  Conde 
had  sent  to  the  principal  hotel  in  the  city.  I  made  the 
most  prudent  arrangements  which  the  case  admitted  for 
securing  against  accident  my  precious  trunk,  furnished 
myself  with  the  proper  arms  for  my  intended  warfare,  and 
a  sufficient  supply  of  wine  and  provisions.  I  packed  my 
mule  to  the  extent  of  his  traveling  powers,  and  disposed  of 
the  remainder  in  an  immense  valise  for  my  own  horse.  I 
spent  one  night  with  my  host,  who  showed  himself  in  all 
respects  a  true  American,  and  early  the  next  morning,  with 
mutual  expressions  of  good  will,  I  set  my  face  toward 
the  mountains  and  the  camp  of  the  patriots. 

My  journey  led  me,  as  usual  in  this  country,  on  a  great 
Beaten  road  over  red  hills  succeeded  by  grassy  plains.  I 
saw  little  to  interest  me.  The  impression  of  terror  and 
apprehension  was  marked  even  upon  the  people  passing  on 
the  roads.  From  the  prevalence  of  mutual  suspicions, 
the  people  traveled  in  large  companies,  and  completely 
armed ;  so  that  every  group  had  the  appearance  of  a  band 
of  guerillas.  The  greater  portion  of  them  could  not  read, 
and  for  those  who  could,  my  passport  was  an  unanswerable 
document.  I  met  with  no  adventure,  until  a  little  after 
noon.  My  agitation  and  anxiety  for  the  last  three  days 
had  prevented  me  thinking  much  about  food,  but  nature 
will  have  her  way.  I  began  to  be  faint,  and  to  think  of  the 
provisions  with  which  the  benevolent  surgeon  had  furnished 
me.  A  clump  of  shrubs  and  trees  indicated  a  spring  at  a 
little  distance  from  the  road.  Thither  I  was  turning  my 
steps  to  take  my  dinner  in  the  shade,  when  I  saw  a  solitary 
horseman  descending  the  hill  just  behind  me.  As  he 


A  Rebel  Colonel.  177 

neared  me  I  began  to  fancy  that  I  had  seen  him  before,  in 
fact  it  proved  to  be  no  other  than  Fergus.  Place  any  one 
in  my  situation,  and  you  may  fancy  something  of  my  joy 
at  meeting  him  again.  He  sprang  from  his  horse,  and  em- 
braced me,  shedding  tears  of  joy.  "Now,"  said  he,  "Satan 
roast  them  all  if  they  ever  separate  me  from  yer  honor 
again.  Fergus  has  nicked  them  all,  and  cleared  himself, 
though  they  barred  him  up  like  a  runaway  dog.  Don't 
ye  see,  too,  I  have  bought  yer  honor's  horse.  Who 
should  I  light  on  in  Durango  but  the  Yankee  surgeon? 
I  plumped  upon  him  as  though  he  had  fallen  in  my  por- 
ridge, and  he  told  me  all,  and  showed  me  the  horse  that 
ye  had  sold.  When  I  had  once  set  my  eyes  on  him,  no 
other  beast  would  serve  my  turn.  So,  yer  honor,  out  of 
the  cash  that  Isabel,  the  jewel,  has  furnished  me,  I  bought 
him  back  and  mounted  him  and  here  I  am  safe  and  sound, 
to  follow  yer  honor  to  the  end  of  the  world,  to  fight  royal- 
ist, devil  or  dobbie,  just  as  yer  honor  chooses." 
"You  have  not  told  me  how  you  escaped." 
"Well,  I  will  tell  ye  that  too.  After  ye  were  off,  the 
Conde  ordered  me  to  the  palace  before  him.  But  Fergus  is 
much  of  a  mule  when  the  gait  does  not  please  him.  So  I 
asks  him,  as  his  own  self  had  bade  me  be  yer  servant,  why 
he  stops  me  now  ?  So  he  looks  big,  this  way,  curses  me,  and 
shuts  me  up  in  that  infernal  calaboozo,  with  steel  bars,  that 
they  have  near  the  palace,  and  tells  me  to  cool  my  fingers 
and  learn  patience  there.  There  I  sits  me  down  on  tho 
straw  to  a  comfortable  little  turn  of  thinking,  and  the  fleas, 
yer  honor,  boring  my  tender  skin  in  a  thousand  places  at 
once.  All  the  while  I  was  as  surly  and  as  cross  as  a  bull. 
At  night  they  put  in  some  bread,  a  cup  of  the  element  and 
a  shank  bone  of  tough  beef  in  a  platter,  and  I,  yer  honor, 
in  pure  ill  nature,  kicked  it  all  over  like  a  gentleman.  The 
night  and  day  in  that  horrid  hole  is  all  one  thing.  I  guess 


178  Robert  Gordon. 

it  was  not  lar  from  midnight,  when  down  comes  the 
plump  old  duenna.  Ay,  does  yer  honor  remember  the 
capers  we  cut  together  when  we  first  came  home,  and  yer 
honor  grinned  this  way?  I  sees  her  waddling  up  to  the 
grates  with  her  dark  lantern,  and  she  says,  'Fergus,  0 
Fergus,  are  ye  here,  honey?'  'Ay/  says  I,  'and  no 
thanks  to  them  that  put  me  here  neither.  What  would 
ye  with  Fergus?'  She  says,  'Fergus,  ye  are  as  cross  as 
a  rattlesnake,  and  ye  always  liked  Anna,  the  quarteroon 
better  than  me.  But  ye  are  a  pretty  boy,  Fergus,  and  I 
bears  no  malice.  So,  ye  see,  mistress  and  Isabel  waited 
till  the  Conde  had  cooled  down  a  little,  and  then  they  gave 
me  the  keys,  and  bid  me  unhung  this  jug  of  yours,  and" 
bid  ye  clear  yerself  and  join  Mr.  Gordon  as  fast  as  ye 
can.'  Be  sure,  yer  honor,  I  needed  no  spur  for  that  gait ; 
and  the  while  I  was  yawning  and  getting  a  little  out  of  the 
kinks,  she  tells  me  all  in  a  whisper,  'Fergus,  ye  can't  guess 
what  a  fuss  they  have  had.  They  have  done  all  but  raise 
the  real  devil  himself.  The  Conde  has  quarreled  with  the 
madam,  his  wife,  which  is  more  than  I  ever  knew  him  to 
do  before,  and  he  swore  by  all  the  saints,  that  he  had  almost 
a  mind  to  bring  the  father  confessor  and  marry  his  daugh- 
ter to  Don  De  Oli  on  the  spot,  and  Isabel  looked  grand 
this  way,  and  a  little  wild,  and  said  a  big  speech,  as  how 
she  would  mind  her  father  in  all  right  things,  'But  devil 
burn  Don  De  Oli  if  ever  he  lays  the  finger  of  husband  on 
me/  " 

"I  suspect,  Fergus,"  said  I,  "that  this  last  part  of  the 
speech  is  an  interpolation  of  your  own." 

"No,  please  yer  honor,  it  is  neither  pole  nor  hoop 
of  mine  in  the  least,  but  just  the  meaning  of  what 
the  duenna  told  about  Isabel.  Oh !  I  couldn't  tell 
yer  honor  all  about  it  in  an  hour.  The  Conde  is 
fretted  to  death,  the  new  business  on  the  mountain, 


A  Rebel  Colonel.  179 

and  another  rising  away  there  in  the  countries  near 
yor  honor's  country.  But  he  swears  that  it  is  harder 
to  manage  a  wife,  and  a  giddy  girl,  than  a  whole  govern- 
ment of  rebels,  that  he  will  see  the  girl  safely  married 
before  he  goes  to  fight  the  publicans.  The  Don,  all  the 
while  puts  the  Conde  up  to  this,  and  stands  by,  like  a  dog 
waiting  for  a  bone,  and,  devil  roast  him,  he  looks  big, 
this  way,  and  is  going  to  put  on  his  regimentals,  and 
swears  how  he  will  spite  the  publicans,  and  whip  yer 
honor,  and  the  likes  of  that.  But  the  best  is  to  come. 
Here's  a  sweetmeat  for  yer  honor,"  and  he  took  a  billet 
from  his  bosom.  It  was  from  Dona  Isabel  and  contained 
these  words: 

"I  cannot  but  believe  that  you  will  be  glad  to  hear  that  I 
am  better.  It  was  but  a  bad  cold.  Fergus  will  tell  you 
what  I  suffer  on  account  of  our  common  enemy, 
Don  De  Oli.  They  have  used  some  indignities  toward 
me,  and  I  am  glad  of  it.  My  heart  has  been  so  heavy  of 
late,  that  I  feared  my  spirits  would  be  broken  down.  But 
they  will  find  to  their  cost  that  they  have  roused  the  blood 
of  my  ancestors,  and  that  they  cannot  bring  me  to  their 
purposes  that  way.  I  have  no  authority  to  counsel  you, 
and  yet  my  heart  is  still  prompting  me  to  say  something. 
Whatever  course  you  take,  I  am  sure  you  think  it  the  path 
of  honor.  You  will  not  take  it  amiss,  if  I  say  one  word  to 
you  about  the  mountain.  You  will  go  there,  I  am  told. 
I  wish  you  may  not  take  arms  against  my  father.  But  I 
foresee  that  you  will  be  much  with  the  Misses  Vonpelt. 
They  are  good,  and  pretty;  much  fairer,  I  confess,  than 
the  Spanish  ladies.  I  am  far  enough  from  being  happy  my- 
self, but  surely  I  am  not  so  base  as  not  to  wish  you  happy, 
and  you  will  be,  for  you  will  walk  together  and  look  at  the 
mountains,  and  watch  the  setting  sun,  and  the  rising  moon, 


180  Robert  Gordon. 

and  have  none  to  disturb  you.  Well,  they  may  as  well  be 
happy  as  anybody.  I  hope  you  will  not  wholly  forget  me, 
when  you  teach  them  English.  They  will  learn  fast,  I  dare 
say,  now  that  you  have  no  other  pupils.  Could  you  not 
find  time  to  write  me  now  and  then  ?  It  would  teach  me  to 
correspond  in  English;  and  I  think  your  verses  are  pretty, 
though  on  so  poor  a  subject.  Fergus  has  promised  that  he 
will  find  some  way  in  which  to  forward  your  letters. 
Maybe  I  shall  trouble  you  now  and  then  with  a  line.  It 
will  be  a  hard  thing  for  me  to  imagine  you  in  the  ranks 
against  my  father,  and  I  know  well,  if  you  were  to  meet  as 
enemies,  that  you  would  spare  him  for  my  sake.  But  the 
other,  he  has  used  us  both  with  the  basest  indignities,  and 
uses  names  in  reference  to  you,  in  my  presence,  that  I  will 
not  trace  with  my  pen.  I  nightly  and  fervently  implore 
the  Mother  of  God,  and  all  the  saints,  to  guide  you  and 
keep  you  from  all  harm.  If  I  could  believe  that  there  were 
more  energetic  forms  of  prayer  in  your  church,  I  would  use 
them  too." 

Nothing  could  exceed  the  delight  of  the  honest  Irish  lad 
to  rejoin  me,  and  I  felt  as  if,  in  this  humble  friend,  I  had 
found  a  brother.  The  spring  was  limpid  and  cool,  the 
shade  of  the  catalpas  delightful.  We  ate  heartily  and 
drank  a  reasonable  quantity  of  the  heart-cheering 
parso  with  entire  gusto.  "And  now,"  said  Fergus, 
"yer  honor,  I  feel  like  a  lion.  I  am  ready  to 
march  to  the  ends  of  the  earth,  and  as  much  farther 
as  yer  honor  pleases,  and  if  the  publicans  don't 
find  me  up  to  the  hard  knocks,  let  them  say,  'Fergus  is  a 
coward/''  We  were  soon  jogging  along  the  dusty  high- 
way toward  the  mountain.  Our  horses,  when  brought  to- 
gether, almost  manifested  the  joyful  recognition  of  Dapple 
and  Rosinante, 


A  Rebel  Colonel.  181 

We  arrived,  as  the  twilight  was  fading,  at  the  foot  of  a 
mountain,  the  first  of  a  chain  which  stretched,  hill  beyond 
hill,  to  the  Gulf  of  Mexico.  Its  summit  was  still  bright 
and  illumined  with  the  last  rays  of  the  sun,  while  the  sides 
and  its  base  were  enveloped  in  the  dusk  of  evening.  We 
had  overtaken,  in  the  last  half -hour,  a  number  of  solitary 
horsemen  who  were  hastening  to  the  same  point  of  union. 
At  an  elevation  of  some  hundred  feet  on  the  side  of  £he 
mountain,  on  a  table  plain  of  no  great  extent,  we  saw  the 
white  tents  of  the  patriots.  A  pass,  barely  wide  enough 
for  a  horse  to  ascend,  wound  up  the  side  of  the  mountain, 
among  huge  rocks.  We  were  hailed  with  the  question, 
Adonde  va?  by  a  couple  of  tall  fierce-looking  Spaniards, 
armed  with  all  sorts  of  weapons.  Those  whom  we  had 
joined  produced  documents  which  procured  them  immedi- 
ate admittance.  I  was  aware  that  my  passport  from  the 
Conde  would  be  of  no  use  here.  I  inquired  if  M.  de  Von- 
pelt  were  there.  I  was  answered  in  the  affirmative,  and 
that  any  friend  of  his  would  be  admitted.  We  were,  how- 
ever, most  carefully  scrutinized.  Having  advanced  a 
few  rods  farther  up  the  side  of  the  mountain,  to  a  small 
plain,  we  were  joined  by  a  file  of  soldiers.  We  next  came 
to  a  pass  barred  up  with  fallen  trees,  except  a  narrow  gate- 
way, through  which  but  one  man  could  pass  at  a  time. 
Here  were  temporary  stables,  and  here  we  were  compelled 
to  leave  our  horses.  A  couple  of  porters  came,  who,  with 
Fergus,  carried  our  baggage.  The  story,  which  Fergus 
told  with  great  fluency,  of  our  having  been  driven  away 
from  the  Conde's  palace,  as  patriots,  obtained  for  us  un- 
doubting  confidence,  and  a  cordial  reception,  and  we  were 
hailed  as  masonic  brothers  of  the  cause.  We  continued, 
with  increasing  difficulty,  to  climb  up  the  rocks,  and  to 
wind  round  the  side  of  the  mountain,  with  a  half-hour's 
laborious  ascent.  Then  we  opened  upon  a  plain  of  some 


1 82  Robert  Gordon. 

acres  in  extent.  In  the  centre  was  a  smooth,  level  and 
verdant  little  prairie,  on  one  side  skirted  by  lofty  trees, 
whose  shadowy  verdure  showed  delightfully  by  the  hundred 
fires  of  the  camp.  The  watchword  was  given  by  the  leader 
of  the  file,  and  repeated  from  sentinel  to  sentinel,  until  the 
sound  died  away  in  the  distance.  We  were  immediately 
ushered  into  the  camp,  and  brought  to  the  tent  of  the  com- 
mander-in-chief.  Here  our  documents  were  examined 
anew,  and  as  mine  was  the  most  suspicious  case,  M.  de 
Vonpelt  was  sent  for,  to  answer  to  my  being  a  true  man 
and  not  a  spy.  While  I  was  awaiting  the  issue  of  this  mes- 
sage, I  had  time  to  look  round  the  camp.  From  the  little  I 
had  seen  and  read  upon  the  subject  I  judged  that  the  tents 
were  arranged  in  military  order,  and  the  tall,  whiskered 
and  fierce-looking  men,  seen  partly  in  light  and  partly  in 
the  shade,  made  a  formidable  appearance.  There  was  no 
uniform.  Most  of  them  were  arrayed  in  a  costume  of 
motley,  shaggy  character,  and  the  whole  had  more  the 
aspect  of  banditti  than  the  array  of  a  regular  military 
force. 

In  a  few  minutes  the  soldier  came  back  accompanied  by 
M.  de  Vonpelt.  He  had  seen  me  two  or  three  times  at  the 
palace,  but  he  knew  my  estimation  there,  and  especially  for 
the  confidence  which  his  daughters  reposed  in  me,  he  pro- 
nounced me  a  true  man,  as  honest  as  a  German.  "I  give 
mein  Gott,"  said  he,  "a  t'ousand  t'anks  that  you  are  come. 
You  shall  stay  mit  me,  und  my  tear  girls  vill  be  so  happy. 
This  man  is  one  very  goot  American,  und  he  has  been 
treated  very  pad  py  de  Conde ;  und  he  has  come,  as  he  says, 
to  join  the  goot  cause  und  fight  for  de  liperties."  I  was 
welcomed  by  Morelos,  the  commander-in-chief,  with  great 
courtesy.  After  conversing  with  me  a  few  minutes,  and 
giving  me  some  outline  of  the  present  state  of  things,  he 
assigned  a  time  in  which  we  would  deliberate  together  what 


A  Rebel  Colonel.  183 

position  and  rank  I  should  fill  in  the  army,  and  I  went  wifh 
M.  de  Vonpelt.  As  we  proceeded,  he  gave  me  some  of  the' 
details  of  his  proscription,  which  seemed  to  have  been  ill- 
advised  and  to  have  precipitated  his  purpose.  I  inferred 
from  his  account  of  the  matter,  that  in  the  warmtfi  of  his 
frank  and  honest  heart  he  had  dropped  some  expressions, 
intimating  good  wishes  to  the  patriots.  They  reached  the 
ears  of  Colonel  Arredondo  and  Don  De  Oli,  and  he  was  at 
once  proscribed.  "Put,"  said  he,  "I  t'ank  mein  Gott,  I  have 
been  in  Old  England,  und  learned  to  speag  English  almost 
so  goot  as  a  native,  und  I  got  the  start  of  the  tamned  dons 
for  I  had  sent  all  my  moneys  there  as  soon  as  I  saw  these 
tamned  times  coming.  Und  now,  my  poy,  we  vill  pay 
them  back  in  their  own  coin.  Ve'll  punish  those  vile  hypo- 
crites, the  priests,  too,  und  vill  have  the  settling  of  the 
land.  Not  that  I  want  their  tamned  mines,  neider.  I 
have  moneys  enough,  I  t'ank  mein  Gott.  Put  it's  the  liper- 
ties,  my  prave  poy,  it's  the  liperties  ve  vant.  There's  never 
a  true  Tuchman  on  the  globe  but  what  loves  de  liperties, 
ay,  petter  than  sour  krout.  Come  on,  my  poy,  ve'll  at 
them  togeffier.  How  I  shall  make  my  girls'  hearts  leap 
mit  dis  sight  of  you.  'Tis  a  tamned  tark  hole  under  de 
side  of  the  mountain  where  we  stay.  Put  never  mint. 
Ve'll  peat  them,  und  then  have  just  such  houses  as  ve 
like."  He  led  the  way  and  I  followed  him,  through  the 
tents,  advancing  toward  a  perpendicular  mass  of  native 
limestone  which  raised  its  head  a  thousand  feet  into  the  air. 
Under  this  wall  there  was  a  capacious  cavern,  whose  front 
opened  with  an  elevation,  just  sufficient  to  admit  us  with- 
out stooping.  Having  entered,  I  found  myself  in  a  vast, 
vaulted  aperture,  scooped  out  by  the  hand  of  nature,  of 
many  hundred  yards  in  extent,  and  the  dome  springing  up 
to  such  a  height  as  only  to  be  faintly  illumined  by  the  can- 
dles and  torches  within.  Huge  natural  columns  and  colos- 


184  Robert  Gordon. 

sal  pillars  of  solid  blue  limestone,  sprang  up  in  different 
points  to  the  roof.  The  whole  had  the  appearance,  thus 
dimly  lighted,  of  a  vast  Gothic  interior  of  a  temple,  of 
such  a  grandeur  that  no  words  can  describe.  It  answered  a 
great  many  purposes  at  once.  It  was  immense,  and  suffi- 
cient to  furnish  shelter  to  an  army.  The  air  was  at  once 
cool  and  dry. 

Here  were  the  headquarters  of  the  patriot  officers.  Here 
were  lodged  all  the  female  part  of  their  establishment.  The 
lines  of  demarcation  between  the  ladies  and  suits  of  dif- 
ferent families  were  blankets  or  silken  curtains  or  ver- 
dant branches  or  palmetto  stalks.  As  far  as  the  eye 
could  penetrate  in  the  rear  of  the  cavern  were  natural 
apertures  through  the  cliffs  of  the  mountains,  and  here  in 
blazing  lines  were  the  cooking  fires  of  the  camp.  The 
range  of  nature  could  not  have  presented  a  place  more 
favorable  to  everything  that  could  be  sought  under  such 
circumstances.  There  was  perfect  shelter  from  the  ele- 
ments, and  impregnable  security;  and,  as  though  nothing 
that  the  bounty  of  nature  could  furnish  should  be  wanting, 
in  one  corner  of  this  immense  grotto  trickled  along  a  spring 
of  pure,  cool  water,  amply  sufficient  for  all  the  exigencies 
of  the  whole  camp.  There  were  children,  servants, 
negroes,  Indians,  domestics,  and  wives  of  all  nations  and 
colors.  In  one  point  leaned  the  stately  Spanish  dame,  glit- 
tering with  gems,  and  invested  with  the  rich  and  splendid 
mantilla,  and  beside  her  glared  the  white  eyes  of  a  fat 
negro  wench.  In  one  compartment  the  patriot  officer, 
with  his  immense  hat  and  feathers,  was  snatching  his  re- 
past from  a  table  rudely  made  of  planks.  In  another, 
was  a  family  group,  with  children  of  all  ages,  taking 
their  chocolate  together.  The  clatter  of  plates  chimed  in 
with  the  roasting  of  beef  and  the  hissing  of  boiling  water 
in  the  rear.  The  united  sound  of  voices  through  the 


A  Rebel  Colonel.  185 

whole  establishment,  was  not  unlike  that  of  a  numerous 
flock  of  blackbirds  at  the  north  when  perched  on  a  tree. 
Some  were  singing  patriotic  songs,  many  of  which  were 
produced  in  the  camp  every  day.  Some  were  scraping  the 
violin,  others  were  thumming  the  guitar.  But  the  whole 
medley  of  sounds  was  that  in  which  reckless  gaiety  was 
the  keynote.  Between  the  parlors  and  the  kitchen  sub- 
divisions there  was  an  open  promenade,  from  one  end  to 
the  other,  and  along  this  walk  were  seen  moving  slowly, 
backward  and  forward,  as  if  in  deep  meditation,  the  tall, 
dark  and  whiskered  Solons  and  Solomons  of  the  rising 
revolving  the  fate  of  empires  in  their  bosoms,  and,  perhaps, 
regarding  with  complacency  the  gigantic  shadows  and  the 
immense  feathers  and  long  swords  which  the  tapers  gave 
them  on  the  huge  rampart  as  they  moved  along. 

Nothing  could  be  more  cheerful  or  affectionate  than  the 
welcome  which  the  Misses  Vonpelt  gave  me.  They  gaily 
told  me,  that,  as  any  hope  of  making  any  deeper  impres- 
sion upon  a  heart  so  preoccupied,  was  out  of  the  question, 
they  would  content  themselves  by  calling  me  brother,  and 
claiming  only  the  attention  and  affection  due  to  sisters.  I 
found  them  the  same  round  faces,  bright  complexions, 
and  happy  countenances  that  I  had  met  at  the  palace. 
There  was  never  a  more  striking  contrast  than  that  of  these 
happy  and  beautiful  faces,  vying  with  the  lily  and  the  rose, 
these  mantillas  of  the  richest  silks  and  crapes,  clasped  with 
diamonds  and  sparkling  with  gems,  with  the  shapeless 
and  awful  grandeur  of  the  cavern,  under  the  superincum- 
bent piles  of  snow  top  mountains,  and  the  moving  groups 
of  ugly  servants,  fat  wenches  with  their  white  eyes,  and  all 
the  singular  gradations  of  tinted  skin,  from  the  copper 
color  of  the  native  Indian  to  the  jet  black  of  the  Congo 
African. 

"Now,  mein  dear  girls/'  said  M.  de  Vonpelt,  "I  hope 


1 86  Robert  Gordon. 

you  will  scold  mit  me  no  more  for  bringing  you  to  this 
tamned  tark  place.  Here  is  your  Yankee  master,  come  10 
stay  mit  you,  and  to  teach  you  the  English,  and  fight  the 
Dons  mit  me." 

"Thank  you,  dear  father/'  said  the  elder,  "thank 
you,"  added  the  younger,  and  they  cordially  shook  me 
by  the  hand,  bidding  me  call  them  sisters,  and  that 
they  would  call  me  nothing  but  brother.  "We  told  father," 
said  the  elder  (her  name  was  Jeannette),  "that  with  the 
smoke,  and  the  horrid  ugly  faces  here,  we  were  all  losing 
our  eyesight.  Even  the  young  fellows  of  Durango  were 
not  so  superlatively  ugly  as  these  officers.  Virgin  Mary! 
I  had  no  idea  that  all  the  patriots  were  such  ugly  fellows, 
or  they  never  would  have  made  a  patriot  of  me."  Kath- 
erine,  the  second  Miss  Vonpelt,  was  called  by  the  family 
Katie,  and  the  youngest,  Henrietta,  was  commonly  called 
Ettie.  Katie  eagerly  questioned  me,  if  it  were  a  fact,  that 
all  the  Yankees  were  handsome  to  a  man;  for,  she  whis- 
pered, it  was  confidently  reported  in  the  camp,  that  the 
Yankees  at  San  Antonio  were  marching  to  join  them  here. 
"Oh!  how  sad  and  grave  you  look.  I  pity  you,  indeed, 
and  so  we  do  Isabel ;  but  since  it  cannot  be  helped,  we  must 
try  to  cheer  you."  "Never  mind,"  said  Ettie,  "the  want  of 
a  heart  does  not  show  in  the  face.  At  any  rate,  we  h^ve  a 
likely  fellow  to  walk  about  with  us  and  keep  off  the  dogs. 
And  what  is  more,  we  confide  in  our  brother  as  honest,  and 
this,  among  this  bandit-looking  people,  is  no  small  mat- 
ter. When  you  want  to  read  and  sit  still,  you  shall  shake 
your  head  as  you  used  to  do  at  the  palace,  and  we  will  all 
run  to  our  books  and  be  as  quiet  as  kittens." 

Everything  with  this  amiable  group  wore  the  air  of  being 
en  famille.  Their  father  represented  them  to  have  been 
gloomy.  My  coming  among  them  seemed  to  be  the  signal 
for  the  renewal  of  their  innocent  and  uncontrolled  gaiety. 


A  Rebel  Colonel.  187 

Fergus,  too,  received  from  the  father  a  proper  welcome, 
and  to  the  duties  of  a  servant  was  to  add  those  of  a  soldier. 
The  omen  attending  my  introduction  among  the  patriots 
thus  far  seemed  auspicious.  In  a  little  while  we  were 
seated  at  a  smoking  sirloin,  sweet  potatoes,  tortillas,  or 
Spanish  corn  cakes,  coffee,  chocolate,  bananas,  melons  and 
fruits  of  all  sorts,  the  plunder  of  the  fields  in  the  valleys 
below.  There  was  no  want  of  parso  for  me,  and  the  squeez- 
ing of  the  native,  as  Fergus  called  it,  that  is  to  say,  aqua 
ardiente,  for  him.  For  the  rest,  they  made  liberal  use  of 
an  intoxicating  drink  called  vino  mescal.  With  these 
appliances  of  natural  and  artificial  gaiety  there  was  no 
want  of  merriment  among  us. 

After  supper  the  father  remarked  to  his  daughters  that 
they  must  cease  their  chatter  for  a  while  and  give  us 
time  to  discuss  the  graver  matters  in  hand.  He  drew  me 
apart  and  communicated  the  present  state  of  things,  the 
plans  and  prospects  of  the  leaders  of  the  insurrection,  and 
the  omens  of  ultimate  success.  He  was  rather  a  cabinet 
agent  than  a  general.  Nevertheless  he  declared  that, 
whenever  an  opportunity  offered,  he  intended  to  fight. 
"They  shall  hear  of  their  tamned  proscriptions  of  me," 
said  he.  "They  shall  repent  driving  me  und  my  sweet 
girls  into  this  tamned  hole."  There  was  one  point  of  his 
information  in  which  I  felt  a  lively  interest.  There  was  an 
actual  rising  in  Texas,  and  many  young  men  of  respecta- 
bility and  standing  from  the  United  States  were  united 
with  them  in  the  ranks.  This  position  was  admirably 
chosen  for  defence,  and  for  levying  contributions  on  the 
adjacent  country.  It  was  also  nearly  midway  between  the 
City  of  Mexico  and  San  Antonio,  where  the  other  rising 
was.  Many  of  the  patriots  advised  to  remain  here  and  erect 
impregnable  fortifications,  institute  a  press  for  a  gazette, 
and  open  a  point  of  union  for  all  the  provincial  internas, 


1 88  Robert  Gordon. 

who  were  disaffected  with  the  royal  cause.  Others  advised 
to  descend  from  the  mountains  and  force  their  way  to  San 
Antonio  and  form  a  junction  with  the  forces  there,  making 
much  calculation  on  aid  from  the  United  States.  A  single 
glance  at  things  was  sufficient  to  show  me  the  disadvantages 
under  which  the  cause  lahored  here.  Very  few  of  the  lead- 
ers had  any  system  or  matured  plan.  Very  few  of  them 
were  acquainted  with  history  or  politics,  and  the  leaders 
were  generally  much  better  instructed  to  noose  a  wild  horse 
than  to  manage  such  ignorant,  timid  and  yet  ferocious 
people  as  made  up  the  mass  of  the  party.  Their  plans 
were  shortsighted,  having  respect  rather  to  momentary  ad- 
vantages than  to  distant,  matured  and  ultimate  success. 
Even  the  question  whether  to  remain  and  strengthen  them- 
selves here,  and  wait  for  accessions  to  the  cause,  or  sally 
from  the  mountains  and  march  to  San  Antonio,  became 
the  watchword  of  a  party.  The  question  proposed  to  me, 
as  soon  as  I  was  domesticated  among  them,  was,  are  you 
for  staying  or  going?  My  associates  would  assort  with 
me,  according  to  my  answer.  And  as  happens  in  such 
cases,  the  more  trifling  the  difference  between  us,  the 
more  bitter  was  the  discussion.  What  the  advocates 
wanted  in  wisdom  and  capacity  to  deliberate,  they  made 
up  in  long-winged  speeches,  in  zeal  and  fierceness. 

I  could  see,  too,  that  the  motives  that  brought  them 
here  were  as  various  as  the  appearance  of  the  individuals. 
The  very  same  cause  which  thickened  adherents  round  the 
standard  of  King  David,  had  its  influence  here.  There 
were  people  in  debt,  spendthrifts,  outlaws,  people  who 
came  here  through  envy,  and  wishing  for  plunder  and 
revenge,  people  who  had  nothing  to  lose,  and  who  might 
find  booty  during  the  general  conflagration.  Every  sordid, 
every  base  principle,  every  malignant  passion  had  its 
recruiting  efficacy,  and  had  brought  over  more  than  one 


A  Rebel  Colonel.  189 

partisan  to  the  patriot  standard.  Among  the  servants, 
who  wanted  to  be  rid  of  masters,  among  the  bankrupts, 
who  wanted  in  this  way  to  liquidate  their  debts,  among 
the  profligate,  who  wished  to  plunder  the  rich,  among 
the  ignoble,  whose  envy  induced  them  to  wish  to  set 
their  foot  on  the  neck  of  the  great  men  of  the  country, 
among  the  many,  who  had  congregated  here  from  base 
and  sinister  motives,  there  was  no  doubt  not  a  few  of  those 
pure  and  noble  minds,  that  appear  from  time  to  time  in 
small  numbers  on  our  orb,  who  calmly  look  down  the 
current  of  the  future,  and  with  singleness  of  heart,  and 
that  sublime  benevolence  which  contemplates  no  selfish 
ends,  arrange  their  plans,  with  a  kind  of  abstract  and 
angelic  calculus,  for  the  good  of  the  generations  to  come. 
No  doubt  but  that  we  had  our  miniature  Washingtons 
and  Bolivars.  There  were  a  few  fine  young  men,  whose 
eyes  kindled,  as  they  dilated  upon  the  indescribable  gran- 
deur of  their  great  country,  written  great  by  the  finger 
of  Nature,  its  inexhaustible  natural  and  moral  resources, 
the  intrinsically  generous  character  of  its  simple  and 
oppressed  people,  and  the  abomination  of  the  thought  that 
such  a  vast  and  beautiful  country  should  continue  to  be 
the  plaything  of  a  stupid  tyrant,  embroidering  petticoats 
for  the  Virgin,  and  living  at  the  distance  of  two  thousand 
leagues. 

Among  those  who  had  joined  the  cause  without  any 
alloy  of  sinister,  or  selfish  feelings,  was  M.  de  Vonpelt. 
He  was  a  man  of  amiable,  simple,  and  unsuspicious 
character,  who  had  accumulated  an  immense  fortune 
by  a  continued  succession  of  fortunate  events,  which  seems 
to  crown  the  efforts  of  some  favored  individuals  with  suc- 
cess, whether  they  seek  for  it  or  not.  He  had  the  forecast 
to  convert  his  fortune  into  cash,  and  deposited  it  in  British 
funds.  But  he  had  committed  his  own  personal  ease  and 


190  Robert  Gordon. 

safety,  and  that  of  his  three  beautiful,  and  inexperienced 
daughters,  on  the  issue  of  this  dubious  stake,  merely  from 
a  philosophic  regard  to  the  great  and  sacred  cause  of 
genuine  freedom.     Too  amiable,  and  too  little  ambitious 
to  be  stirred  up  to  the  contest  by  envy  or  aspiring  thoughts. 
He  had  come  to  the  cause  in  the  simple  feeling  of  well 
wishing  to  mankind.     He  remarked,  himself,  that  no  one 
could  suspect  him  of  calculating  upon  more  ease,  honor, 
or  wealth,  by  any  change  that  a  revolution  could  bring. 
His  honest  and  unsuspicious  mind  had  led  him  to  think 
well  of  me  from  the  first,  because  his  daughters  did;  and 
he  had  become  attached  to  me  in  the  same  proportion  that 
they  had.    He  had  seen  enough  of  the  ignorance  and  pre- 
sumption of  most  of  the  leaders  here,  as  already  to  have 
become  disgusted  with  them.     My  adhesion  to  the  cause 
inspired  him  with  renewed  confidence.     His  vast  wealth 
and  his  established  character  gave  him  no  small  influence 
among  the  patriot  leaders.     In  fact,  though  nominally 
subordinate,  he  had  more  real  influence  than  any  other 
man.     He  would  not  hear  of  my  having  a  commission 
under  that  of  colonel.     As  it  respected  the  question  at 
issue,  he  and  I  differed  from  Morelos,  he  being  for  sallying 
forth  and  joining  the  rising  at  San  Antonio.     I  had  no 
faith  in  the  opinion  that  the  United  States  would  commit 
themselves    in    the    contest,    and    all    that    we    could 
reasonably  expect  from  that  quarter  were  occasional  acces- 
sions of  adventurous  young  men,  who  would  come  from 
the  impulse  of  feeling.    We  thought  it  best,  therefore,  to 
fortify   ourselves,   and   made   this   place   a   depot  head- 
quarters, and  a  rallying  point  for  the  patriots.     It  would 
be  a  point  for  the  countenance  and  encouragement  of  the 
wavering  and  disaffected,  and  it  would  tend  to  divert  the 
royal  commander  from  concentrating    his    whole    force 
against  either  point.    It  would  harass  and  dishearten  their 


A  Rebel  Colonel.  191 

forces.  These  disputes  with  the  chiefs,  who  differed  from 
us  on  this  point,  were  always  managed  on  our  part  with 
perfect  good  temper.  Sometimes  the  daughters  gave  their 
opinions,  too.  They  answered  that  from  this  delightful 
place,  where  they  could  look  down  upon  the  world,  with 
a  brother  to  teach  them  English,  and  beautiful  groves  in 
which  to  walk,  and  all  manner  of  whimsical  characters 
with  which  to  amuse  themselves,  and  a  few  faces  on  which 
they  might  look  without  injuring  their  eyes,  with  plenty 
of  fruits,  and  water,  and  such  a  large  and  substantial 
mansion  for  shelter,  and  a  place  of  such  strength  and 
safety,  it  would  be  folly  to  go  away.  They  asserted  that 
we  could  do  no  better  than  to  remain  here,  and  they 
privately  whispered  to  me,  that  if  I  would  behave  well, 
they  would  have  a  detachment  sent  out  to  bring  the 
Condesa  and  Isabel,  and  make  me  happy;  and  that  Mount 
Mextpal  should  be  the  seat  of  their  government.  But 
Katie  was  for  marching  to  San  Antonio,  that  she  might 
study  Yankee  faces,  insisting  that  one  beau  to  three  ladies 
was  a  proportion  altogether  too  scanty. 

The  first  days  of  my  abode  here  were  devoted  partly 
to  the  study  of  tactics,  and  in  part  to  learning  the  practical 
branch  of  military  duty  by  actual  training.  For  this 
purpose,  I  interested  myself  to  form  a  volunteer  corps, 
which  should  study  tactics  and  drill  together.  We  spent 
some  hours  every  day  in  our  exercises.  I  now  spoke 
Spanish  with  entire  fluency,  and  had  no  difficulty  in 
becoming  acquainted  with  the  chiefs.  It  was  a  matter  of 
no  small  difficulty  as  well  as  delicacy,  to  manage  my  inter- 
course with  the  married  ladies  of  the  establishment.  As 
they  had  little  to  do,  and  were  addicted  to  those  courses 
at  home,  and  were  here  much  more  in  society  than  they 
were  accustomed  to  be,  intrigues,  and  squabbles,  and  fre- 
quently charges  of  their  cortejos,  were  occurring  daily. 


192  Robert  Gordon. 

On  this  subject  a  considerable  quantity  of  gunpowder  was 
harmlessly  burned  in  duels. 

The  most  considerable  of  the  patriots,  and  the  man 
who  held  the  present  command  among  them,  was  Morelos. 
He  was  a  native  ecclesiastic,  of  the  order  of  deacons.  I 
may  remark  that  there  seems  to  be  an  instinctive  feeling, 
antecedent  to  reason,  which  causes  that  every  human 
being  born  in  our  hemisphere  inherits  a  feeling  of  inde- 
pendence, and  a  love  of  liberty,  as  his  birthright.  The 
clergy  of  the  higher  orders  were  generally  European 
Spanish,  and  it  was  well  known  that  between  them  and 
the  natives  of  Spanish  blood,  born  in  the  New  World,  there 
has  existed  a  kind  of  hereditary  antipathy.  European 
priests  were,  of  course,  for  the  most  part  unrelenting 
royalists.  The  native  priests,  on  the  contrary,  generally 
leaned  toward  the  independence  of  their  country.  This 
man  possessed  the  silent  and  contemplative  appearsnce, 
which  long  training  in  the  peculiar  rites,  usages  and  habits 
of  the  Eoman  church  generally  imposes.  So  much 
restraint,  and  observance,  and  watching  of  public  opinion, 
in  bad  men,  foster  hypocrisy  in  the  heart.  On  the  face  of 
others  it  imprints  a  musing  and  melancholy  character; 
in  him  this  was  peculiarly  visible.  The  dreadful  fate 
which  had  attended  his  compatriot  and  brother,  the  father 
Hidalgo,  the  patriarch,  and  the  first  conspicuous  victim 
of  insurrection  against  Ferdinand,  had  added  to  this 
general  expression  an  unalterable  thoughtfulness  and 
gloom.  He  was  a  man  not  of  uncommon  powers, 
but  of  considerable  reading  and  reflection,  and 
as  I  judged,  mainly  actuated  by  an  innate  regard  to  free- 
dom in  joining  the  cause.  He  was  a  man  of  undoubted 
courage  and  firmness.  No  ways  terrified  by  the  terrible 
catastrophe  which  befell  the  father  Hidalgo,  he  seemed 
to  have  derived  from  it  more  elevation  of  feeling,  and 


A  Rebel  Colonel.  193 

more  unshaken  perseverance  in  the  cause.  He  often  passed 
his  evenings  with  the  family  of  M.  de  Vonpelt,  and 
attached  himself  to  me  from  the  first  moments  of  our 
acquaintance.  He  knew  the  whole  thread  of  events 
throughout  the  whole  Mexican  empire,  from  the  first 
dawning  of  the  spirit  of  independence.  His  local  acquaint- 
ance with  this  vast  country,  and  the  character  and 
influence  of  its  inhabitants,  was  to  me  a  matter  of  aston- 
ishment. You  could  point  to  no  village  or  city  on  the 
map,  with  the  whole  of  whose  private  history  he  did  not 
seem  to  be  perfectly  acquainted.  He  often  passed  the 
evening  in  giving  us  details  of  the  insurrection,  generally 
gloomy  and  terrible,  up  to  this  time. 

The  third  evening  of  my  residence  in  the  family,  during 
a  most  furious  tempest  of  rain,  wind  and  thunder,  while 
the  lightning  flashed  into  our  subterranean  dwelling,  and 
the  wind  and  thunder  roared  awfully  among  the  moun- 
tains, he  formed  one  of  the  circle,  which  the  uproar  of  the 
elements  abroad  was  contracting  in  a  closer  sitting,  and 
gave  us  a  succinct  narrative  of  all  that  he  had  seen,  done 
and  suffered,  since  he  had  exchanged  his  functions  of  a 
priest  for  those  of  a  soldier.  These  details,  in  such  a 
place,  on  such  an  evening,  and  by  a  man  of  such  a  counte- 
nance, so  unalterably  solemn  and  melancholy,  with,  a  head, 
whose  baldness  in  the  centre  was  as  if  the  razor  had 
passed  over  it,  and  whose  deep  thoughts  seemed  to  hold 
communion  with  torture  and  with  death,  communicated 
to  us  the  shivering  chill  of  intense  feeling.  I  select  from 
the  details  of  that  narrative  the  account  of  the  fate  of 
the  father  Hidalgo. 

"When  I  joined  him,"  said  he,  "the  alarm  of  insurrec- 
tion in  our  country  had  just  sounded  from  sea  to  sea. 
With  a  holy  feeling  of  devotion  to  the  people  of  this 
oppressed  country,  he  had  left  his  quiet  and  safe  duties 


194  Robert  Gordon. 

of  priest,  and  had  girted  himself  with  the  sword  of  patriot- 
ism.    The  people  clustered  around  him  like  the  gathering 
of  the  birds    when  preparing  for  their  aerial  excursions. 
He  was  flushed  with  hope  and  confidence,  at  the  head 
of  forty  thousand  men.    Although  his  object  was  to  deliver 
the  country  forever  from  the  dominion    of    the    parent 
country,  the  watch-word  was,  'Ferdinand  the  Seventh,  and 
the  Virgin  of  Guadaloupe/     You  will  suppose  that  our 
communion  was  sweet,  for  our  hearts  were  alike  devoted 
to  this  cause.     We  were  both  Creoles  of  the  country.    jBoth 
had  renounced  the  clerical  functions,  and  were  equally 
exposed  to  the  deepest  anathemas  of  the  dignitaries  of  our 
church.     Ours  was  a  holier    and    more  intimate    tie    of 
brotherhood,  cemented  still  firmer  by  community  of  dis- 
grace and  exposure.     He  advanced  upon  Guanaxuato,  a 
city    of    considerable    importance,    and    was    joined    by 
Aldama,  Allendo,   and  other  distinguished  patriots.     He 
captured  that  city  and  Valladolid,  and  was  advancing  in 
triumph  and  in  full  march  upon  Mexico.     Here  he  experi- 
enced the  terrible  efficacy  of  the  spiritual  armor  of  our 
warfare,  in  a  region  of  so  much  ignorance  and  bigotry  as 
this.      He    was    excommunicated  and  denounced  by  the 
priesthood,  as  an  abandoned  heretic  and  an  infidel.     His 
accumulating  followers,  viewing  him  as  an  enemy  of  God 
and  all  good  men,  terrified  and  awed,  melted  away  from 
his  path,  like  snow  in  the  sunbeams.     He  changed  his 
advance  to  retreat,  and  fled  from  one  town  to  another, 
struggling  with  superstition,  but  with  his  face  to  the  foe. 
At  Guadalaxara  he  was  besieged  by  the  royalist  chief, 
Callejo.     Defeated,  and  compelled  to  retreat,  he  fled  suc- 
cessively, from  Zacatecas  to  San  Luis  Potosi.     His  object 
was  to  advance  toward  the  American  frontier,  where  the 
germ    of    republicanism    had    been    long    in    vegetation. 
Velas,  a  perfidious  wretch,  who  had  by  the  fawning  sem- 


A  Rebel  Colonel.  195 

blance  of  implicit  deference,  gained  over  him  the  ascend- 
ancy of  a  flatterer,  and  succeeded  in  winning  his  con- 
fidence, imparted  to  him  under  injunctions  of  the  most 
profound  secrecy,  that  Colonel  Arredondo,  who  commanded 
the  royal  troops  under  the  Conde,  was  himself  in  heart 
a  republican,  and  wished  to  join  the  patriots.  He  pro- 
jected an  interview  between  them.  The  unsuspecting 
father  was  thus  entrapped  into  an  ambush,  and  was  seized, 
and  made  a  prisoner.  I  was  in  another  quarter  when 
all  this  happened.  But  I  obtained  the  most  exact  informa- 
tion of  his  fate.  He  was  immediately  conducted  to 
Chihuahua,  the  metropolis  of  the  provincias  internas.  A 
council  of  war  was  convened,  over  which  General  Salcedo 
presided,  subject  to  the  ultimate  revision  of  its  sentence 
by  the  Conde.  He  was  well  known,  at  that  time,  to  have 
been  disposed  to  merciful  counsels.  At  least,  he  would 
have  spared  the  unhappy  victim  insult  and  torture.  But 
the  smooth  and  plausible,  yet  stern  and  vindictive  father 
Jerome  interposed  his  counsels  with  so  much  effect,  that 
it  was  decided  that  he  should  first  endure  the  torture,  and 
then  die. 

"He  was  a  venerable  old  man,  and  had  been  a  dignitary 
of  the  church.  He  was  arrayed  with  the  customary 
habiliments  of  his  sacerdotal  office,  in  order  to  be  degraded 
and  deposed  with  more  solemnity.  He  was  then  brought 
out  by  a  file  of  soldiers,  and  delivered  over  to  a  consistory 
of  priests,  and  they  adjudged  the  nature  and  extent  of 
his  torture.  It  was  adjudged,  that  as  he  had  grasped  the 
sword  of  heresy  and  rebellion  with  the  same  hand  with 
which  he  had  been  used  to  raise  the  consecrated  Host,  the 
thumb  and  fingers  of  it  should  be  rasped  down  to  the  first 
joint.  The  dreadful  sentence  that  was  read  to  him  was, 
that  he  should  first  suffer  this  operation,  then  be  shot,  and 
then  delivered  over  to  the  power  of  Satan  and  hell.  He 


lo6  Robert  Gordon. 

.was  ordered  to  prepare  for  its  immediate  execution.  His 
right  arm  was  immovably  bound  with  cords  to  a  post,  just 
admitting  the  thumb  and  fingers  above  the  end  of  the 
post,  and  they  were  secured  to  iron  rods.  A  brazier  pro- 
duced a  coarse  kind  of  file,  and  began  the  horrible  opera- 
tion. He  evidenced  the  unshaken  spirit  of  a  martyr.  The 
feverish  flush  of  agony  was  indeed  visible  in  his  brown 
and  furrowed  cheek,  and  the  first  filling  of  the  file  with 
the  skin  and  the  quick  fiber  produced  a  manifest  spas- 
modic quivering  over  the  -whole  frame.  It  was  the  claim 
of  the  frail  physical  and  suffering  nature.  The  ascendancy 
of  the  higher  intellectual  principle,  sitting  on  a  throne 
which  agonies  of  mortality  could  not  touch,  vindicated 
the  second  triumph.  They  who  came  with  the  horrid 
purpose  to  exult  in  his  groans,  and  see  him  subdued,  and 
expiring  under  the  agony  and  dismay,  went  away  with 
far  other  impressions.  He  waved  the  hand  that  was 
not  manacled.  'I  die,'  said  he,  'a  believer  and  a  servant 
of  Him  who  endured  worse  than  this  without  shrinking. 
He  who  was  nailed  to  the  cross  will  sustain  me.  This 
soul  is  beyond  your  power,  and  it  exults  in  the  sacredness 
of  the  cause  for  which  I  die.  Think  not,  when  you  have 
murdered  an  old  man,  that  the  cause  will  expire  with  him. 
The  groans  of  the  oppressed  will  raise  up  other  deliverers. 
If  there  be  present  a  single  person  who  is  a  patriot  in 
his  heart,  and  who  is  restrained  by  fear,  let  him  learn 
that  there  are  holy  principles  that  cast  out  fear;  and  let 
him  see  how  a  patriot  and  a  Christian  can  die/  He  con- 
tinued in  this  way,  with  a  firm  countenance  and  an  unfal- 
tering voice,  to  express  his  devotion  to  the  cause,  until 
the  savage  operation  was  accomplished.  They  then 
unbound  him,  and  led  him  to  execution.  Even  here  he 
was  equally  undismayed.  Before  he  kneeled  down,  he 
exhorted  the  assembled  multitude  to  arise  in  their 


A  Rebel  Colonel.  197 

strength,  and  break  their  chains,  and  cast  them  in  the 
faces  of  their  oppressors.  He  expressed,  with  the  prophetic 
confidence  of  a  dying  man,  his  conviction  that  the  cause 
of  liberty  would  prevail,  and  that  the  whole  hemisphere 
would  be  completely  emancipated;  and  that,  though  he 
was  not  to  be  spared  to  see  it,  he  should  learn  of  it  in  a 
better  country.  He  would  not  allow  them  to  cover  his 
head.  He  kneeled  down,  and  held  up  his  hand,  as  a 
signal  for  the  soldiers  to  fire,  and  received  his  death  with 
undaunted  composure.  Thus,"  said  Morelos,  "died  my 
noble,  unshaken  compatriot  and  friend,  and  if  I  am  to 
suffer  in  the  same  cause,  may  my  last  end  be  like  his." 

The  winds  still  mustered  in  their  fury.  The  rains 
poured,  and  the  Egyptian  darkness  was  only  illumined  by 
the  glare  of  lightning.  The  story,  the  countenance  of 
Morelos,  and  the  scene,  were  all  in  keeping.  The  roses 
gradually  yielded  to  the  lilies  in  the  countenances  of  the 
daughters,  as  the  story  advanced.  On  M.  de  Vonpelt's 
sat  the  undisguised  expression  of  indignation  and  terror. 
"Ah  I"  he  exclaimed,  "these  Creoles  are  a  tamned  set  of 
asses.  It  makes  me  think  of  the  servile  war  in  old  Eome. 
The  army  that  went  against  them,  armed  itself  with 
scourges  and  whips.  The  miserable  wretches  fled  from 
the  sight  of  the  lash.  Only  place  before  these  ignorant 
fools  an  excommunication,  and  they  would  desert  the 
Saviour  himself.  We  are  engaged  in  von  pretty  pusiness, 
to  expose  ourselves  to  such  an  end  as  this,  to  give  de 
liperties  to  such  a  tamned  set  of  cowards,  who  will  run 
away  even  from  an  invisible  danger." 

Upon  the  Misses  Vonpelt,  the  story  had  the  effect  to 
turn  their  thoughts  to  the  possibility  of  their  undertaking, 
and  to  reflect  that  their  father  was  now  obnoxious  to  the 
same  fate,  which  fell  so  terribly  on  the  head  of  the  father 
Hidalgo.  Gfay  and  thoughtless  as  they  generally  were, 


198  Robert  Gordon. 

they  were  not  without  deep  feeling.  The  bare  supposition 
of  such  a  catastrophe,  suspended  over  a  father  so  beloved, 
fixed  on  their  pale  and  fair  faces  a  deep  gloom,  succeeded 
by  starting  tears.  As  soon  as  Morelos  had  retired,  they 
began  to  agitate  the  question,  if  there  were  no  escape  from 
the  position  in  which  they  were  now  placed,  and  to  entreat 
their  father  and  me  to  devise  some  way  in  which  we 
might  all  fly  together  to  the  United  States.  But  another 
theme,  adroitly  introduced,  had  the  effect  to  turn  their 
thoughts  in  another  direction.  Stories  of  another  cast 
circulated,  and  another  train  of  images  was  introduced. 
Their  tears  gave  place  to  gaiety,  and  before  we  separated 
for  the  night,  father  Hidalgo,  and  the  possible  issue  of 
our  cause  were  alike  forgotten. 

I  made  all  the  progress  that  I  could  desire,  in  becoming 
acquainted  with  our  associates  in  the  camp,  and  with  the 
ladies  I  had  more  popularity  than  I  could  have  desired; 
for  they  took  occasion  to  tell  me,  that  so  sober  a  man,  and 
so  little  addicted  to  gallantry,  they  feared,  would  not 
know  how  to  fight.  Every  new  view  of  the  men  gave  me 
more  disheartening  apprehensions  of  the  issue  of  a  cau-e 
depending  upon  such  leaders.  Had  they  listened  to 
Morelos,  they  would  have  had  subordinations,  discipline, 
system,  economy,  and  sufficient  supplies  of  provisions  for 
a  siege.  But  there  was  no  compulsion,  and  no  subordina- 
tion. The  resources  of  a  month  were  wasted  in  a  week. 
The  camp  rung  with  patriotic  songs,  and  the  reckless 
gaiety  of  the  young  men,  who  felt  themselves  far  from  all 
restraint;  and  presented  an  aspect  of  frolic  and  mirth, 
that  was  peculiarly  fascinating  to  such  a  people.  Even 
under  the  massive  dome  of  our  quarters,  new  stories  of 
intrigues  were  constantly  getting  air,  and  their  intrigues, 
pride,  parties  and  heart-burning,  furnished  ample 
materials  for  the  thousand  and  one  narratives  of  scandal. 


A  Rebel  Colonel.  199 

Almost  every  night  brought  its  ball  and  fandango,  which 
the  Misses  Vonpelt  and  myself,  however  reluctantly,  were 
compelled  to  attend.  The  country  for  twenty  leagues 
around  was  put  in  requisition,  to  furnish  the  requisite 
good  cheer.  The  poor,  plundered  peasants  had  no  other 
redress,  than  to  imprecate  curses,  equally  on  the  heads  of 
royalists  and  patriots.  There  was  so  much  riot  and  dissi- 
pation, so  much  abundance  and  idleness,  such  barbarian 
affectation  of  glare  and  splendor,  that  I  doubt  not  a  con- 
siderable number  of  these  patriots,  male  and  female, 
would  have  been  glad  to  terminate  the  campaign  and  the 
revolution  with  only  this  reservation  for  themselves,  that 
they  should  take  up  their  final  residence  in  this  abode  of 
pleasure  and  plenty.  For  my  part,  I  felt  myself  in  such 
demand  with  the  dames  and  sisters  of  the  officers,  that  I 
was  rapidly  getting  rid  of  that  bashfulness  that  creates 
such  a  barrier  between  the  people  of  different  countries. 
If  I  were  disposed  to  go  into  the  annals  of  female  intrigue, 
I  could  easily  fill  a  volume  with  the  adventures  which 
occurred  while  I  was  here.  I  turned  from  such  novel 
manners  with  indifference ;  and  were  it  not  an  assumption 
not  to  be  expected  at  my  years,  I  might  say,  with  loathing. 
The  only  real  satisfaction  which  I  experienced,  apart 
from  my  reading  and  study,  was  in  the  delightful  family 
circle  of  M.  de  Vonpelt.  On  this  charming  table  plain,  I 
could  have  enjoyed  solitude  in  the  scenery  and  the  contem- 
plation of  nature.  But  the  incessant  activity  and  bustle 
gave  it  the  air  of  a  paltry,  crowded  village,  neither  town 
nor  country,  neither  solitude  nor  society,  although,  besides 
fandangoes,  we  had  our  parties,  dignified  by  the  grand 
Spanish  designation,  tertulias.  Escaped  from  the  chatter- 
ing ignorance  of  these  affairs,  there  was  an  infantine 
frankness,  mixed  with  feeling  and  good  sense,  in  this 
affectionate  family,  that  made  all  the  hours  which  we 


2oo  Robert  Gordon. 

could  have  to  ourselves,  pass  most  pleasantly.  Every 
returning  day  gave  me  higher  views  of  them.  Their  sim- 
plicity I  found  to  be  that  singleness  of  mind  and  heart, 
which  I  have  always  considered  the  highest  endowment 
of  the  best  minds.  Amidst  all  their  gaiety,  there  was  the 
fearless  deportment  of  conscious  rectitude  and  self-respect. 
The  father  had  been  originally  a  Lutheran  Protestant, 
and  the  assumption  of  respect  for  Catholic  rites  and 
usages  had  been  made  out  of  a  decent  regard  to  the  cus- 
toms and  prejudices  of  the  people  among  whom  we  lived. 
As  we  became  more  closely  and  intimately  acquainted,  I 
found  a  thousand  points  of  mental  union,  as  though  we 
had  been  brought  up  together.  Struck  with  this,  De  Von- 
pelt  often  questioned  me  if  I  could  not  speak  a  little 
Dutch,  and  if  I  was  sure  there  was  no  Saxon  blood  in  my 
veins.  The  manners,  morals  and  pursuits  of  this  assem- 
blage of  mountain  banditti  were  as  abhorrent  to  their  feel- 
ings as  to  mine.  But,  with  the  happy  and  sunshiny  tem- 
perament of  joyous  and  innocent  natures,  they  rather  drew 
from  the  whole  scene  food  for  mirth  and  amusement,  than 
for  dissatisfaction  and  harsh  remarks.  We  never  took  a 
walk,  or  made  the  circuit  of  the  camp,  or  took  part  in  a 
review,  or  returned  from  a  fandango,  but  what  they 
brought  away  an  amusing  anecdote,  or  became  better  ac- 
quainted with  some  incident  that  furnished  us  with  con- 
versation and  diversion.  Above  all,  they  managed  with 
a  good  sense,  modesty  and  propriety,  altogether  unac- 
countable, from  their  limited  acquaintance  and  experi- 
ence with  human  nature,  the  numerous  professions  of 
admiration  and  proffers  of  love,  from  the  young  heroes  of 
our  camp.  They  were  the  undisputed  belles  and  beauties 
of  the  whole  circle,  and  yet  they  were  not  pursued  by  envy. 
In  this  amiable  family  I  was  in  a  few  days  as  entirely 
domesticated  as  if  I  had  been,  what  I  was  invariably 


A  Rebel  Colonel  201 

called,  a  son  and  brother.  I  hoped  that  the  bustle  and 
agitation  of  this  new  scene,  and  the  duties  of  a  colonel  in  a 
regiment  of  ignorant  and  refractory  recruits  of  another 
nation,  and  the  air  of  quiet  and  home  in  the  family, 
would  banish  that  deep  feeling  of  painful  remembrance, 
which  was  causing  my  thoughts  every  day  to  wander  back 
to  the  sycamores  of  the  Conde's  palace.  In  this  hope  I 
was  disappointed.  Like  an  evil  conscience  this  feeling 
not  only  followed  me,  but,  instead  of  being  alleviated 
was  embittered  by  time. 

De  Vonpelt  often  observed,  as  we  separated  for  the  even- 
ing, that  with  a  competent  supply  of  the  good  things  of 
life,  and  one  or  two  more  agreeable  families  as  neigh- 
bors, he  should  be  satisfied  to  live  and  to  die  in  that  place. 
The  very  mention  of  leaving  the  mountain  was  sufficient 
to  bring  paleness  to  the  cheeks  of  the  daughters. 


Robert  Gordon. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

BATTLE  OP  MT.  MEXTPAL 

THE  question,  whether  to  go  or  to  stay,  which  had  been 
so  much  discussed,  was  now  to  be  settled  by  circumstances 
over  which  we  had  no  control.  We  had  just  formed  our 
family  circle  for  the  evening,  and  De  Vonpelt  had  just  re- 
marked that  he  had  recovered  the  flesh  he  had  lost  when  he 
first  fled  to  Mextpal,  when  a  dispatch  was  handed  us 
from  Morelos  who  had,  upon  a  rumor  of  an  approaching 
force,  descended  with  the  elite  of  his  forces  to  the  subja- 
cent plains.  It  informed  us  that  the  Conde  had  arrived  at 
the  foot  of  the  mountain  with  a  large  force,  partly  regular 
troops  under  Colonel  Arredondo,  and  of  Creole  troops 
under  Illissondo;  that  his  horse  had  scattered  themselves 
in  all  the  region ;  that  a  number  of  little  parties,  which  we 
were  obliged  to  baptize  by  the  name  of  foraging  parties, 
but  which  were,  in  fact,  plundering  detachments,  had 
been  captured;  that  no  quarter  had  been  given,  and  that 
they  had  been  subjected  to  promiscuous  military  execu- 
tion. He  stated  all  the  difficulties  of  our  cause;  that  all 
his  remonstrance  about  the  necessity  of  laying  in  a  supply 
of  provisions  for  a  siege  had  been  utterly  unavailing;  that 
we  had  provisions  for  no  more  than  a  week,  and  that  our 
only  course  was  to  beat  the  enemy  and  drive  them  from 
the  country,  that  we  might  continue  to  find  supplies ;  or  to 


Battle  of  Mt.  Mextpal.  203 

evade  them  by  stratagem;  or  to  break  our  way  through 
their  array,  and  take  up  our  march  for  San  Antonio, 
where  report  represented  the  patriots  as  successful.  He 
wished  an  immediate  descent  with  all  our  forces,  to  join 
him  before  the  morning.  For  me,  the  volunteer  regiment 
was  assigned  as  my  command,  and  my  commission  as  its 
colonel  was  made  out  by  the  provisional  junta  with  all  the 
formalities.  This,  at  least,  put  an  end  to  doubting  and 
disputation  as  to  our  course.  All  now  admitted  the  wis- 
dom of  remonstrance  against  our  folly  in  not  laying  in 
provisions.  Had  we  had  them  we  might  now  have  defied 
all  the  forces  of  Mexico.  Each  threw  the  fault  upon 
others  and  admitted  that  now  we  had  nothing  to  do  but 
to  fight.  The  Misses  Vonpelt,  in  tears  and  in  agonies  of 
terror,  clung  alternately  to  their  father  and  to  me.  The 
dames,  the  young  ladies,  the  servants,  the  soldiers,  all 
crowded  together  about  us  while  we  read  the  orders,  that 
every  man  among  us  who  could  bear  arms  should  be  ready 
to  descend  to  the  plains,  fully  equipped,  in  an  hour.  Our 
glees  and  catches  and  patriotic  songs  were  all  changed  to 
mourning.  Nothing  was  seen  in  faces,  that  could  be 
bleached,  but  paleness,  and  nothing  was  heard  but  the 
language  of  consternation  and  dismay.  Those  of  our 
young  heroes  who  had  been  loudest  in  their  windy  fierce- 
ness, while  the  foe  was  neither  heard  nor  seen,  were  now  as 
mute  and  pale  as  the  rest. 

Having  issued  the  orders,  which  were  peremptory,  and 
admitted  no  exceptions,  De  Vonpelt,  the  general,  and  my- 
self the  colonel,  retired  to  our  military  wardrobe.  His  short, 
round  figure  was  soon  accommodated  with  the  gaudy  regi- 
mentals of  a  brigadier  general.  The  glitter  of  a  profu- 
sion of  lace  was  in  good  keeping  with  a  face  as  round 
and  as  ruddy  as  a  full  moon.  "Mem  Gott  I"  said  he,  "now 
this  looks  like  Dresden.  Do  I  look  prave  now?  Ah!  my 


2O4  Robert  Gordon. 

poor  girls,  it  is  a  tamned  pusiness  after  all,  this  fighting 
for  de  liperties."  In  turn  he  assisted  me  in  arranging 
my  official  costume.  I  confess  that  I  felt  sufficiently  ri- 
diculous, with  my  heavy  lace  epaulets,  and  a  sword  of  as 
formidable  dimensions  as  that  shown  hy  Bonaparte  to  the 
Mamelukes.  You  may  laugh,  if  you  choose ;  but  I  thought 
of  myself,  preceded  by  the  thick  Saxon,  who  seemed,  in 
his  new  habiliments,  as  stiff  as  a  poker,  and  was  sur- 
rounded by  brawny  Creoles;  and  of  myself,  but  poorly 
qualified,  in  my  own  estimation,  for  anything  but  peace- 
ful pursuits,  in  the  ridiculous  comparison,  which  forced 
itself  upon  me  in  a  moment.  You  have  seen  a  New  Eng- 
land pig,  recently  garnished  about  the  neck  with  a  fine 
new  yoke,  how  he  would  raise  his  knees  every  step  a  few 
inches  higher  than  was  necessary  in  order  that  he  might 
strike  them  against  it.  Our  gait  in  our  new  armor  struck 
me  as  an  exact  parallel  of  this. 

The  young  ladies  clung  to  their  father  and  me  to  the 
last  moment,  and  in  voices  scarcely  audible  for  sobbing, 
begged  us  to  take  care  of  ourselves,  and  they  gave  me  the 
most  solemn  charge  to  bring  their  father  back  again  safe. 
The  tears  chased  one  another  over  the  cheeks  of  the  Saxon 
father.  "Mein  Gott,"  said  he,  "my  tear  girls,  you  will 
break  your  father's  heart.  Now,  as  daughters  of  a 
Tuch  general,  you  ought  not  to  cry  at  all,  at  all."  I  felt 
it  necessary  to  give  the  parting  an  air  of  gaiety,  and  I 
begged  a  lock  of  the  blonde  tresses  of  each  of  them,  and 
told  them  that  they  ought  to  send  us  away,  as  the  French 
ladies  used  to  do  their  chevaliers,  with  smiles  and  kisses. 
These  are  the  omens  to  give  a  stout  heart  for  battle.  "I 
promise  you,  my  fair  sisters,  to  come  back  no  more 
wounded  than  just  enough  to  render  us  interesting,  and 
with  a  whole  volume  of  exploits,  to  be  related  by  nobody 
but  ourselves,  and  furthermore,  pledge  you  my  word,  to 


Battle  of  Mt.  Mextpal.  205 

escort  you  safe  and  sound  to  the  Yankee  camp  at  San 
Antonio." 

In  calling  our  muster-roll  we  found  no  small  number  of 
our  young  enthusiasts  for  liberty  reported  as  too  ill  for 
marching.  Most  of  these  young  men  had  been  the  night 
before  at  the  fandango,  and  had  been  seized  with  this  dis- 
qualifying sickness  since  that  time.  But  we  were  a  very 
considerable  body,  who  were  assembled  to  march.  We 
moved  on,  as  Milton  says,  "darkling,"  and  treading  on 
each  others'  heels,  and  stumbling  upon  the  rocks  in  the 
darkness.  Of  course  we  had  some  Spanish  curses  fol- 
lowed, however,  by  the  sign  of  the  cross,  and  a  prayer  to 
the  patron  saints  for  forgiveness.  We  were  dimly  lighted 
on  our  way  with  torches.  It  was  midnight  when  we 
reached  the  plain  and  united  ourselves  with  Morelos. 
At  the  distance  of  half  a  league  over  the  plain  were  seen 
complete  ranges  of  fires,  one  extremity  of  which  touched 
the  base  of  the  mountain  on  our  right,  and  the  other  on 
our  left,  so  that  we  were  completely  hemmed  in  by  a  semi- 
circle. We  were  immediately  ushered  into  a  council  of 
war.  As  usual,  we  had  discordant  opinions,  and  almost 
as  many  plans  as  there  were  individuals.  But  in  a  storm 
at  sea,  I  have  remarked,  when  the  cause  labors,  and  the 
ship  and  crew  are  in  equal  danger,  there  is  a  common  feel- 
ing in  the  ignorant  and  timid  to  remit  their  usual  self- 
impoitance.  The  real  helmsman  is  no  longer  kept  back 
by  envy,  but  is  called  for  by  general  opinion  to  come  for- 
ward and  take  his  proper  place.  Our  opinion  was  in  en- 
tire coincidence  with  the  determined  counsel  of  Morelos, 
that  we  should  place  in  advance  a  great  number  of 
scouts  or  sentinels,  who  should  give  us  an  alarm  if  there 
were  any  advance  of  the  foe,  that  our  troops  might  take  as 
much  repose  as  consisted  with  sleeping  on  our  arms,  and 
that  with  the  first  dawn  of  the  morning  we  should  at- 


2o6  Robert  Gordon, 

tack  them  with  our  whole  force  and  cut  our  passage 
through  their  centre. 

I  had  scarcely  retired  to  the  tent  assigned  me,  before 
Fergus,  who,  I  should  have  remarked,  was  a  sergeant  in 
my  regiment,  brought  me  a  couple  of  letters.  They  had 
come  with  other  dispatches  by  a  flag  of  truce.  Among 
these  dispatches  was  a  proclamation  offering  a  general  am- 
nesty to  all  that  would  lay  down  their  arms  and  surrender 
themselves  to  the  royal  commander.  They  had  excepted 
from  this  pardon  a  few  cases,  among  which  were  Morelos, 
De  Vonpelt  and  myself.  The  first  letter  was  from  mji 
former  pupil,  Dorothea.  It  was  in  indifferent  English,  and 
was  long  and  rather  difficult  to  decipher.  The  purport 
of  it  was,  that  her  father  and  she  were  yet  willing  to  for- 
give my  indifference,  if  I  would  now  see  things  in  the  light 
of  my  true  interest.  She  declared  in  strong  terms  her 
continued  regard  for  me,  and  that  her  father  had  so 
much  influence  with  the  government  that  he  could  yet 
procure  me  a  pardon ;  and  that  our  cause  was  known  to  be 
utterly  hopeless ;  that  if  I  persisted,  I  could  expect  nothing 
better  than  a  military  execution;  that  I  could  have  no 
hope  from  any  supposed  influence  over  the  heart  of  Dona 
Isabel,  for  that  it  was  a  fixed  affair  that  she  was  to  be 
united  to  Colonel  De  Oli  at  the  close  of  the  campaign, 
which,  from  appearances,  was  likely  to  be  very  short; 
that  her  father  would  even  be  willing  to  interpose  in  be- 
half of  De  Vonpelt,  provided  there  were  no  truth  in  the 
report  that  I  was  to  marry  Jeannette;  that  she  trusted  to 
my  good  sense  to  choose  between  a  fortune,  liberty,  and  an 
affectionate  wife,  and  an  immediate  and  ignominious 
death;  that  the  least  notice  to  Colonel  Arredondo  that  I 
was  disposed  to  accept  of  her,  hand  and  fortune,  she  had 
been  assured,  would  extend  to  me  a  full  pardon  among  the 
rest. 


Battle  of  Mt.  Mextpal.  207 

The  other  was  from  Dona  Isabel,  and  contained  only  the 
following  words: 

"Blessed  Virgin !  do  I  live  to  hear  that  you  are  a  rebel 
officer,  in  arms  against  my  father,  and  proclaimed  a  spy 
and  a  traitor?  While  these  terrible  denunciations  are 
issued  against  you  here,  you  are  making  the  mountain 
ring  with  your  revelries,  living  in  riot  on  the  plunder  of 
the  poor  peasants,  solacing  yourself  with  the  smiles  of 
the  easy  Jeannette,  and,  like  a  butterfly,  wantoning  from 
flower  to  flower,  when  tired  of  her.  Well,  you  will  now 
have  a  chance  to  meet  Don  De  Oli,  as  you  have  wished.  I 
am  sure  of  one  thing,  that  harshly  as  I  have  met  all  his 
advances,  he  regards  me  more,  and  would  have  remembered 
me  longer  than  you  have  done.  Would  to  God  I  had  met 
with  nothing  to  seduce  my  affections  from  the  tranquil 
tenor  of  my  duty.  I  might  then  have  been  a  wife,  tran- 
quil, if  indifferent,  and  an  obedient  child,  making  my 
worn  and  harassed  father  happy.  As  it  is,  you  will  live 
on,  and  take  your  pleasure,  and  amuse  yourself  with 
Jeannette ;  and  for  me,  let  events  turn  as  they  may,  there 
is  no  escape  from  this  intolerable  pressure  at  my  heart. 
For  me  there  is  no  resource  but  to  die.  But  rebel,  or  roy- 
alist, vanquished  or  victorious,  you  ought  to  be  dear  to  me, 
and  you  are  so.  Eemind  Jeannette  that  she  too  once  pro- 
fessed to  be  my  friend." 

From  the  tenor  of  these  letters  I  discovered  clearly, 
what  I  had  more  than  suspected  before,  that  our  move- 
ments were  all  reported  at  Durango,  that  we  were  sur- 
rounded by  invisible  danger,  and  had  traitors  in  our 
camp.  I  discovered,  too,  that  the  character  of  my  affec- 
tionate reception  in  De  Vonpelt's  family,  and  my  brotherly 
attentions  to  his  daughters  were  grossly  misrepresented. 


208  Robert  Gordon. 

Indeed,  I  had  received  insinuations  of  this  sort  from  the 
ladies  in  the  camp.  I  saw  but  too  much  reason  to  believe 
that  the  natural  impulses  of  human  feeling,  united  with 
pride,  resentment,  a  sense  of  duty,  and  the  spiritual  rep- 
resentations of  the  father,  would  actually  and  speedily 
bring  about  the  desired  union  of  Isabel  with  Don  De  Oli. 
I  had  never  distinctly  allowed  myself  to  think  that  I  had 
any  hopes  there.  But  shadowy  visions,  against  myself, 
would  play  about  my  imagination,  anticipations,  so  bliss- 
ful and  so  exquisitely  dear,  that  without  definition  or 
outline,  they  still  looked  to  a  different  issue.  "But  they 
are  not  quite  sure,"  thought  I,  "that  the  campaign  is  to 
terminate  so  soon,  and  so  successfully  for  Don  De  Oli. 
At  least,  if  he  is  to  be  married  when  he  returns,  I  will 
strive  to  detain  him  here  as  long  as  I  can."  I  found  that 
meditating  on  the  probable  event  of  our  being  beaten  in 
the  morning,  and  my  suffering  immediate  military  exe- 
cution, in  case  I  should  survive,  and  his  returning  to  claim 
and  receive  his  bride,  was  an  excellent  preparative  for 
intrepidity  and  determination  to  fall  on  the  field  in  case 
of  defeat.  "I  will  either  conquer,"  I  thought,  "or  I  will 
die.  If  the  former  is  not  reserved  for  me,  the  latter  will 
be  the  consummation  to  be  wished."  I  felt  that  I  had 
not  philosophy  enough  to  be  willing  to  live  after  I  knew 
Isabel  to  be  in  the  possession  of  another,  much  less  of  Don 
De  Oli ;  and  with  that  reflection  I  went  to  sleep. 

I  was  just  taking  the  comfort  of  a  tranquil  dream,  in 
which  I  supposed  myself  in  New  England,  on  a  fine  sum- 
mer's morn,  and  sitting  down  to  our  customary  rural 
breakfast  at  my  father's  house.  I  heard  the  boblincolns 
chattering  in  the  meadows;  I  saw  the  dear  and  well 
remembered  face  of  my  mother,  and  she  was  telling  me, 
with  tender  apprehensions,  that  I  looked  ill  and  as  though 
I  had  not  slept.  In  the  midst  of  this  dream  the  bugles 


Battle  of  Mt.  Mextpal.  209 

broke  in  on  the  stillness  of  the  morning  and  awak- 
ened me  from  this  delightful  dream  to  the  thrill- 
ing and  contrasted  consciousness  of  my  actual  position. 
I  had  made  all  the  little  arrangements  that  circumstances 
would  allow,  in  preparation  for  whatever  might  be  the 
issue  of  the  encounter.  I  had  so  provided,  that  in  case  of 
my  death,  none  but  Fergus  would  know  where  my  effects 
were,  and  if  he  survived,  as,  not  being  obnoxious  to  the 
government,  there  was  a  greater  possibility  that  he  might, 
he  was  directed,  and  he  promised  me  that  he  would  at- 
tempt to  make  his  way  to  Boston,  and  remit  my  property, 
the  gift  of  the  Condesa  and  Isabel,  to  my  parents.  I 
also  left  a  short  letter  for  them,  and  another  for  Isabel. 
I  hope  it  will  not  be  inferred  that  I  was  more  timid  or 
would  fight  the  less  hard  because  I  had  not  yet  worn  off  the 
impressions  of  a  religious  education.  I  made  a  short 
but  fervent  surrender  of  my  hopes  and  fears,  my  will  and 
my  wishes,  the  interest  of  my  dying  and  immortal  nature, 
to  the  Great  Disposer  of  events.  I  examined  my  motives, 
and  on  the  whole  my  heart  did  not  misgive  me.  A  calm, 
I  might  almost  hope,  a  holy  serenity,  came  over  me.  Never 
did  morning  dawn  upon  me  in  a  state  of  so  much  exulta- 
tion of  feeling.  Our  army,  if  a  vast  mass  of  Indian, 
mulatto  and  Creole  rabble  could  be  called  by  such  a 
respectable  name,  was  in  a  few  minutes  in  order,  or 
rather  disorder,  of  battle.  The  advantage  of  our  assidu- 
ous trainings  on  the  mountain  was  now  conspicuous  in 
my  regiment.  It  was  something  more  uniform  and  regu- 
lar than  the  rest  of  the  host,  and  was  drawn  up  with 
something  more  of  order  and  martial  array,  inspiring 
confidence  in  themselves  and  infusing  it  into  the  rest. 
The  centre  was  voluntarily  assigned  to  me  and  my  regi- 
ment. I  remarked  that  my  poor  fellows  looked  ill  and 
pale  as  the  full  array  of  the  opposing  army  opened  upon  us 


2io  Robert  Gordon. 

with  the  increasing  brightness  of  the  morning.  We  had 
no  music  but  the  sound  of  monstrous  wooden  bugles,  the 
neighing  of  our  horses,  and  the  braying  of  our  donkey?. 
In  the  centre  of  the  royal  army  was  the  splendid  Cadiz 
regiment,  with  a  fine  band,  gay  uniform,  and  boasting  to 
be  one  of  the  best  disciplined  regiments  in  Europe.  The 
Conde  with  his  aides,  among  whom  was  Colonel  De  Oli, 
mounted  on  fine  chargers,  were  seen  at  the  head  of  this 
regiment.  The  army  was  drawn  up  in  line,  whose  wings 
were  a  little  inclined  toward  the  mountains.  A  deep  gully, 
called  Rio  Seco,  was  between  us  and  them.  We  were, 
perhaps,  as  numerous  as  our  foe;  but  it  was  easy  to  see 
that  their  more  martial,  regular  and  uniform  appearance 
struck  a  thrilling  sensation  through  our  disorderly  multi- 
tudes. Each  army  waited  for  the  other  to  cross  the  Eio 
Seco,  that  they  might  attack  the  other  while  climbing  up 
the  banks.  Every  demonstration  of  defiance  to  provoke 
this  advance  was  made  by  either  party.  Our  bugles  pealed 
a  deafening  clamor.  The  Cadiz  regiment  replied  by  a 
slow  and  grand  national  air  on  the  full  band.  Each  army 
slowly  approached  the  gully,  and  was  now  so  near  each 
other  that  mutual  terms  of  reviling,  in  which  the  Spanish 
is  wonderfully  rich,  could  be  distinctly  heard.  Every  op- 
probrious term  of  crimination  and  recrimination  which 
the  language  could  furnish  was  exhausted,  and  while  de- 
fiances and  execrations  were  thus  bandying  backward  and 
forward,  our  troops  foamed  with  rage.  I  was  delighted 
to  witness  this,  for  I  was  fully  persuaded  that  our  troops 
would  fight  only  from  one  of  two  impulses — confidence  or 
rage.  It  was  sufficiently  obvious  that  we  had  not  the  first, 
and  our  enemy  was  gratuitously  furnishing  the  other.  We 
remained  in  this  position  looking  at  each  other,  uttering 
flourishes  of  defiance,  and  when  they  paused  abusing  each 
other,  the  sun  arose,  and  a  slight  breeze  arising  with  it  dis- 


Battle  of  Mt.  Mextpal.  an 

pelled  dense  banks  of  mist  that  concealed  parts  of  the 
opposing  armies  from  each  other.  I  had  expected  every 
moment  that  they  would  open  upon  us  discharges  of  ar= 
tillery.  But  it  seems  that  their  pieces  had  just  arrived 
with  the  rising  sun.  We  had  not  a  single  cannon.  The 
moment  their  artillery  came  up  they  opened  upon  us  a 
sweeping  and  deadly  discharge,  and  the  thrilling  cries  of 
the  wounded  and  the  dying,  in  the  intermission  of  their 
terrible  crash,  first  rang  in  my  ears. 

I  comprehended  at  once,  that  for  our  raw  and  untrained 
rabble,  many  of  whom  had  never  seen  anything  more  than 
the  killing  of  a  deer  or  a  buffalo,  to  stand  and  receive 
these  sweeping  discharges,  without  the  possibility  of 
revenge  or  annoyance  in  return  would  be  instant  and 
total  rout.  I  requested  Morelos  to  allow  me  to  cross  the 
ravine  with  my  regiment,  and  see  if  we  could  not  make  an 
impression  upon  the  foe.  It  was  granted  me.  I  addressed 
my  men  for  a  moment.  I  put  them  in  mind  of  the  estima- 
tion they  bore  in  the  army ;  that  this  was  the  first  time  we 
had  had  a  chance  to  acquire  glory  and  show  our  devotion 
to  our  cause.  "Let  us  avenge,"  I  said,  "the  charges  of 
cowardice  that  they  have  thrown  upon  us.  Follow  me  and 
we  conquer  or  die/'  They  answered  me  by  vivas,  and 
shouts,  and  requested  to  be  led  on ;  and  we  started  in  quick- 
step for  the  bank.  Such  is  the  effect  of  sympathy,  that  the 
same  multitude,  who  would  not  have  received  two  more  dis- 
charges of  artillery  without  running,  instantly  caught  the 
enthusiasm  of  my  regiment,  and  with  a  terrible  and  unan- 
imous shout  that  made  the  very  mountains  ring,  started 
almost  on  a  run.  We  were  in  the  ravine  and  out  of  ex- 
posure in  a  moment.  We  halted  there  a  minute  to  take 
breath,  and  by  the  same  simultaneous  impulse  we  sprang 
for  the  summit  of  the  opposite  bank.  Those  of  more 
strength  and  agility  than  the  rest  reached  the  summit  with 


212  Robert  Gordon. 

a  bound.  Had  our  foe  had  the  wisdom  to  have  charged 
us  here  with  the  bayonet  it  would  have  been  the  end  of  us 
and  the  battle,  too.  But,  as  if  panic-struck  with  our 
electric  impulse,  they  remained  in  their  ranks,  and  re- 
newed the  fire  of  their  cannon,  and  gave  us  the  fire  of  their 
small  arms  by  platoons.  We  were,  as  I  should  have  re- 
marked, all  on  foot,  and  armed  with  carbines  and  spears. 
We  returned  them  one  deadly  discharge  with  our  carbines 
and  rushed  upon  them  with  our  spears.  It  was  at  once 
a  perfect  melee,  a  rencontre  of  man  with  man,  and  in 
which,  in  many  instances,  the  opposite  parties  were  ac- 
quainted. Of  course  personal  malice  came  in  for 
its  share  of  influence  in  the  fury  of  the  com- 
bat. It  furnished  just  the  field  in  which  these  men 
would  be  most  likely  to  have  experience.  It  was  an 
army  of  duellists,  of  personal  struggles  for  mutual 
assassination.  Our  spears  stood  us  in  excellent  stead 
against  their  horses.  They  became  disordered  and  re- 
coiled upon  their  own  disordered  ranks.  They  evidently 
had  the  disadvantage  in  the  first  "tug  of  battle."  Had  we 
possessed  any  discipline,  it  would  have  been  an  entire 
rout  to  them.  But  their  commanders  saw  their  disadvan- 
tage, sounded  a  retreat,  and  their  troops  separated  from 
the  melee  in  good  order.  Our  eagerness,  as  they  undoubt- 
edly foresaw,  had  well  nigh  ruined  us.  We  strove  to  stem 
the  current  of  pursuit,  but  we  were  carried  along 
with  it.  We  lost  everything  that  resembled  a  front,  and 
became  a  furious,  rushing  crowd.  Our  enemy  retreated 
until  they  saw  irregular  masses  of  our  men  in  advance  of 
the  rest.  They  faced  and  attacked  us  in  return,  in  firm 
column  and  in  good  order.  A  change  of  things  so  unex- 
pected staggered  the  advance.  In  a  moment  it  began  to 
fall  back,  producing  confusion  in  the  rear.  At  this  dread- 
ful moment  their  horses  dashed  upon  us,  and  shrieks, 


Battle  of  Mt.  Mextpal.  213 

groans  and  rout  ensued  on  every  side.  The  ground  was 
covered  with  bodies  and  was  slippery  with  blood.  Mo- 
relos,  De  Vonpelt  and  myself,  together  with  a  few  more 
of  the  undismayed,  placed  ourselves  between  the  fighting 
and  the  retreating.  We  assured  them  that  to  be  forced 
back  to  the  bank  was  inevitable  destruction,  and  as  no 
quarter  was  expected,  not  a  man  could  esecape.  Partly 
by  these  considerations,  and  partly  by  shame  and  threats, 
we  persuaded  them  to  face  the  foe  again.  We  arranged 
them  in  a  kind  of  form,  and  to  sustain  ourselves  against 
the  charges  of  their  horses,  we  placed  our  spears  on  the 
ground,  at  an  angle  of  forty-five  degrees,  and  received 
the  horses  with  the  spears  in  the  breast.  This  maneuver 
produced  another  recoil  of  the  foe,  and  there  was  again 
an  interval  between  us  and  them.  The  action  was  re- 
newed by  discharges  of  musketry  along  the  whole  line  of 
either  army.  Here  we  should  have  had  the  advantage 
again  but  for  the  terrible  havoc  inflicted  by  their  artillery, 
which,  at  every  discharge,  swept  a  clear  path  through 
our  whole  line.  Morelos  uttered  his  fierce  cry  for  another 
charge,  and  we  attacked  them  again  with  fixed  spears. 
In  this  charge,  accident  confronted  me  for  the  first  time 
with  Don  De  Oli.  I  cried  to  him  in  Spanish  to  dismount 
and  we  could  meet  on  equal  terms.  But  whether  he  dis- 
dained to  attack  a  rebel  colonel,  or  whether  he  was  un- 
willing to  fight  on  foot,  or  whether  he  reserved  himself 
for  a  more  fortunate  opportunity,  I  cannot  say.  His 
first  motion  was  as  if  towards  me ;  but  he  instantly  wheeled 
his  horse,  and  rode  away.  In  this  charge  we  fairly  pierced 
our  way  through  their  centre,  and  the  celebrated  Cadiz 
regiment  parted  as  if  by  consent  and  allowed  us  an  al- 
most unmolested  passage  through.  We  blew  our  bugles, 
for  forming  our  line  in  their  rear.  We  had  experienced 
too  bitterly  our  want  of  discipline,  to  be  in  haste  to  at- 


214  Robert  Gordon. 

tack  them  again;  and  they  had  suffered  too  severely,  and 
had  too  well  proved  our  manhood,  to  think  of  molesting  us. 
We  saw  the  strange  spectacle  of  two  armies  retiring  from 
'heaps  of  slaughter,  and  from  each  other,  as  if  by  mutual 
consent.  The  enemy  sent  us  a  flag  of  truce  and  proposed  a 
parley.  We  consented  and  it  was  arranged  that  we  should 
have  an  armistice.  The  terms  were  settled  directly.  They 
were  that  each  army  should  bury  its  dead,  and  aid  their 
wounded  unmolested;  that  then  we  should  be  allowed  to 
march  from  the  mountain  in  the  direction  of  San  An- 
tonio, or  in  any  other  direction  we  should  choose,  undis- 
turbed; and  they  were  not  to  be  assaulted  by  us  in  retir- 
ing, as  they  agreed  to  do,  to  a  small  village  at  the  distance 
of  a  league  and  a  half. 

These  terms  were  settled  on  both  sides,  and  troops  speak- 
ing the  same  language,  that  were  but  an  hour  before  en- 
gaged in  mortal  struggle,  were  now  mournfully  occupied 
in  searching  for  their  dead  and  wounded.  The  losses  on 
both  sides  were  nearly  equal.  It  has  been  observed  in 
all  ages,  that  the  most  deadly  foes  mingle  in  this  sad  busi- 
ness, apparently  laying  aside  personal  animosity,  and  bit- 
terness. Such  was  the  case  now.  Fergus,  who  had  fought 
like  a  hero,  found  and  recognized  among  the  dead  a 
member  of  the  Oonde's  family,  who  had  been  a  fellow- 
servant  with  him.  The  tears  ran  down  his  cheeks,  and 
he  raised  the  Irish  howl  of  mourning.  Mutual  aid  was 
given  in  burying  the  dead  and  aiding  the  wounded.  The 
priests  performed  funeral  rites  for  either  army.  The 
melancholy  and  thrilling  chant,  De  profundis,  mingled 
with  the  low,  faint  groans  of  the  wounded  and  the  dying. 
Having  made  these  arrangements,  and  attended  to  our 
wounded,  we  prepared  to  return  to  the  mountains  to 
carry  into  effect  the  agreement  to  leave  the  mountain  as 
soon  as  possible  and  start  for  San  Antonio.  In  returning 


Battle  of  Mt.  Mextpal.  215 

I  was  walking  with  Morelos  and  De  Vonpelt,  we  passed 
so  near  the  Conde  and  Don  De  Oli  as  to  be  recognized 
by  them.  "I  beg  you,  Sir,"  I  cried  to  Don  De  Oil,  "to 
have  the  goodness  to  inform  Dona  Isabel,  when  next  you 
see  her,  that  you  have  on  this  occasion  declined  my  courtesy 
as  on  a  former  occasion  I  declined  yours." 

There  can  be  no  scene  more  tender  than  the  return 
of  warriors  from  the  uproar  of  battle,  and  the  strife  of 
blood,  safe  and  unwounded  to  their  friends.  You  may 
be  certain  that  we  claimed  the  victory.  In  fact,  the  very 
circumstances  of  our  armistice  warranted  us  in  the  claim. 
The  battle  had  indeed  assured  to  us  the  fruits  of  victory, 
and  all  that  we  could  have  asked,  an  unmolested  march 
to  San  Antonio.  I  was  amused,  as  we  were  met  by  the 
women  and  children,  many  of  whom  had  come  down  the 
mountain  to  get  the  first  tidings  of  the  battle,  to  see  how 
immediately  after  the  first  burst  of  tears  and  congratu- 
lations, each  one  of  our  comrades  was  transformed  into 
an  Alexander.  I  almost  envied  the  reception  of  De  Von- 
pelt by  his  daughters.  For  the  first  time  they  seemed  self- 
ish. Broken  exclamations,  mingled  prayers  and  thanks- 
giving, filled  up  an  interval  of  some  moments.  Morelos, 
who  had  performed  the  noblest  duties  of  a  patriot  soldier, 
and  who  seemed  raised  above  the  sympathy  of  humanity, 
even  he  melted  at  this  scene  and  let  fall  natural  tears 
down  his  furrowed  cheek.  "I  return  my  humble  thanks- 
giving to  the  God  of  battles,  my  dear  children,"  said  he, 
"that  your  father  and  this  young  man  have  been  returned 
safe  to  you,  and  both  covered  with  glory.  I  thank  God, 
too,  in  witnessing  this  scene,  that  I  have  no  children.  The 
issue  of  this  great  struggle  can  personally  affect  only 
me.  The  sympathies  which  I  feel  for  this  great  and  op- 
pressed country,  leaves  me  to  mourn  for  the  destruction 
which  is  to  come."  The  ruddy  face  of  the  Saxon  was 


2i6  Robert  Gordon. 

bathed  in  tears  of  parental  affection,  and  lie  could  not 
refrain  from  sobbing.  In  battle  he  had  been  unshrinking 
in  its  hottest  forefront.  Now  he  wept  like  a  child.  After 
he  had  become  a  little  composed,  he  embraced  me,  and 
presented  me  to  his  daughters,  as  one  who  had  done  much 
in  producing  the  success  of  the  action,  which  Morelos  con- 
firmed in  terms,  improper  for  me  to  repeat.  Even  Fergus 
received  his  share  of  compliments,  which  he  repaid  by 
extolling  the  heroism  of  my  crossing  the  ravine,  to  the 
clouds.  In  short,  we  liberally  praised  one  another.  The 
Saxon  was  delighted  with  this  joyous  commencement  of 
our  warfare,  and  was  sanguine  in  its  joyful  termination. 
"Mein  Gott,"  said  he,  "ve  vill  see  the  country  free  und 
happy  yet,  und  ve  vill  peat  the  liperties  out  of  the  tamned 
Dons,  und  they  vill  vish  they  had  not  proscribed  the 
honest  Tuchman  yet."  The  timid  welcome  of  the  girls  to 
me  was  sufficiently  affectionate.  Less  would  have  been 
out  of  keeping  with  their  frank  and  tender  natures.  More 
would  have  violated  their  nice  sense  of  decorum.  Their 
glistening  eyes  said  to  me  as  many  kind  and  impressive 
things  as  any  words  or  embraces  could  have  done.  For 
the  first  hour  of  our  return,  we  were  perhaps  the  happiest 
people  in  the  world. 


The  Two  Camps  United.  217 


CHAPTER  XV. 

THE  TWO   CAMPS  UNITED. 

I  PASS  over  the  scene  of  packing  and  arranging  and 
preparing  for  the  march  which  we  were  now  compelled 
to  make.  It  was  softened  by  the  circumstance  that  all 
were  in  the  same  predicament.  The  ladies  were  for  the 
most  part  pleased  with  the  prospect.  Their  range  would 
be  extended  and  their  amusement  diversified.  For  me, 
I  have  no  love  for  moving,  the  very  name  applies  oil 
of  vitriol  to  my  nerves.  Everything  that  could  be  fur- 
nished in  the  way  of  a  horse  or  mule  was  put  in  requisition 
and  was  either  loaded  with  a  pack  or  harnessed.  The  line 
of  carts  and  loaded  mules,  when  formed  at  the  foot  of  the 
mountains,  was  a  mile  in  length. 

We  took  our  last  sleep  under  the  vault  of  the  cavern 
of  Mextpal,  and  commenced  our  descent  from  the  moun- 
tain at  the  dawn  of  the  morning  after  the  battle.  The 
day  before  had  so  abundantly  drawn  upon  the  resources 
of  our  feelings  that  I  hoped  that  we  should  have  passed 
away  from  this  singular  and  romantic  residence  without 
emotion.  But  to  some  it  was  identified  with  the  idea  of 
security,  to  others  associated  with  the  remembrances  of 
balls  and  fandangoes.  All  seemed  to  go  away  with  the 
painful  feeling  of  leaving  home.  The  countenances  of  the 
Misses  Vonpelt  were  overcast  with  apprehension  and  anx- 


2i8  Robert  Gordon. 

iety.  They  had  been  perfectly  satisfied  with  things  as  they 
were  here,  and  to  leave  this  place  was  as  the  departure  of 
our  first  parents  from  the  Garden  of  Eden.  The  very  cir- 
cumstance that  the  world  was  all  before  them,  was  ap- 
palling. Sensitive  and  affectionate  natures,  as  theirs  were, 
cling  to  privacy,  quiet,  and  domestic  joys,  and  "that  dear 
ark,  the  home."  They  had  been  quiet  and  retired  here  in 
the  midst  of  all  the  bustle.  The  scene  before  us,  as  we 
descended,  was  sublimely  impressive.  The  mists  were 
rolling  away  from  the  sides  of  the  mountains,  and  the 
sun  was  pouring  his  rising  radiance  upon  their  hoary 
cliffs.  The  battlefield  was  distinctly  visible  to  us,  and 
seemed  spread  directly  under  our  feet.  A  few  people, 
here  and  there,  apparently  mourning  over  their  dead,  and 
at  that  distance  only'  visible  as  moving  atoms,  were  seen 
on  the  field.  Jeannette  pointed  them  out  to  us,  and 
supposed  them  engaged  in  the  pious  office  of  taking  a  fare- 
well look  at  the  spot,  where  friends,  left  on  the  field  of 
honor,  were  taking  their  final  repose ;  and  "Oh !"  she 
added,  "you  cannot  conceive,  with  what  oppressive  throb- 
bings  of  the  heart,  we  yesterday  morning  looked  upon 
the  mingled  conflict  of  this  field.  We  could  distinctly 
hear  the  shouts,  the  feebler  crash  of  small  arm,  and  the 
more  terrible  explosion  of  artillery,  so  much  the  more 
awful,  as  we  knew,  it  was  the  discharge  of  the  enemy. 
I  almost  conceived  that  I  could  feel  the  air  of  the  balls 
whistling  by  me.  I  turned  away  for  fear,  that  by  intense 
looking,  I  should  be  able  to  see  my  dear  father  and  you 
in  the  midst  of  the  struggle,  falling  and  trampled  under 
foot.  No  view,  no  reasoning  could  afford  us  any  clue 
to  determine  which  side  was  victorious.  Oh !  that  I  had 
words  to  explain  to  you  our  agony  of  suspense,  from  the 
time  when  the  firing  ceased  to  that  joyous  moment  of 
your  arrival.  We  were  clasped  in  each  other's  arms  in 


The  Two  Camps  United.  219 

earnest  prayer,  afraid  to  look  forward  to  see  the  messen- 
ger with  his  tidings  and  yet  anxious  beyond  description 
to  obtain  intelligence. 

"Now  that  we  are  going  away  in  health  and  safety,  I 
have  forebodings  and  an  oppression  of  heart  that  I  cannot 
account  for.  This  is  a  charming  place,  and  we  have  been 
so  happy,  tranquil  and  secure.  Never  shall  I  pass  as 
pleasant  days  again  as  I  have  spent  in  that  vaulted  cavern 
in  view  of  this  beautiful  world,  outstretched  below  me, 
kindled  with  the  glories  of  the  morning  or  gilded  with 
the  fading  and  mellow  splendor  of  the  setting  sun," 
"Then,"  added  Kate,  "there  are  more  battles,  more  of 
these  heartrending  suspenses  to  encounter.  Foolish  girl! 
when  the  proscription  came  and  we  fled  I  felt  an  idle 
satisfaction  in  fancying  pleasant  adventures  and  gratified 
curiosity.  I  see  it  will  be  a  sad  business  and  we  cannot 
always  expect  those  we  love  to  come  off  as  yesterday." 
"Now,  my  tear  son,"  said  the  Saxon,  "stop  your  ears 
when  my  weak  girls  talk  this  way.  Girls,  you  are  not 
fit  to  be  children  of  a  soldier.  You  ought  not  to  say  a 
word  to  him  that  will  not  tend  to  harden  his  heart  and 
make  him  a  true  soldier.  You  would  make  us  both  have 
hearts  of  butter.  For  my  part,  I  am  right  glad  to  leave 
this  tammed  hole  in  the  rocks.  Give  me  a  good  stone 
house  and  no  more  fightings  for  the  liperties."  Katie  and 
Etta  had  forgotten  how  very  lately  a  greater  field  for  beaux 
and  a  better  opportunity  for  the  study  of  Yankee  faces  had 
been  considered  the  only  want  of  which  they  had  com- 
plained. We  were  now  about  to  supply  that  want  with- 
out losing  any  of  the  good  things  that  we  had  here,  that 
I  should  be  the  only  loser,  for  that  among  so  many  fine 
young  men  as  they  should  meet  there,  I  foresaw  that 
I  should  be  overlooked.  To  all  this,  Etta  thoughtfully 
replied  that  the  times  were  getting  too  sober  for  jesting, 


22o  Robert  Gordon. 

that  she  should  be  well  satisfied  with  the  society  she  had 
had,  so  that  she  could  be  sure  it  would  be  continued  to 
her.  The  women  about  us  generally  consoled  themselves 
with  the  prospects  of  a  new  range  for  fandangoes  and  tho 
probability  of  seeing  something  more  of  the  world.  Some 
stumbled  over  the  rocks  by  themselves.  Others  leaned  on 
the  arms  of  their  cortejos  or  husbands.  The  dogs  barked. 
The  children  cried.  The  servants  and  cargadores  were 
loaded  with  baggage,  and  in  this  way  we  descended  to  the 
plain,  where  the  servants  had  arranged  our  horses  and  the 
heavier  part  of  our  baggage.  We  continued  to  walk  on 
until  the  procession  had  crossed  the  Eio  Seco,  and  on 
the  opposite  bank  we  passed  directly  through  those  points 
of  the  battlefield,  where  the  greatest  destruction  had  oc- 
curred. The  eyes  of  the  young  ladies  were  filled  as  they 
surveyed  the  traces  of  the  havoc,  the  ground  drenched  and 
still  reeking  with  blood,  the  soil  ploughed  up  by  the 
wheels  of  the  enemy's  artillery  and  the  fresher  graves  ar- 
ranged in  lines,  which  made  the  number  of  tenants  seem 
even  greater  than  it  was.  De  Vonpelt,  who  had  fought 
the  day  before  like  a  hero,  sickened  and  turned  pale  as 
he  surveyed  this  prodigious  effusion  of  human  bloocfr 
which  yesterday  had  flowed  in  veins,  as  warm  as  ours. 
Morelos  walked  thoughtfully  over  the  field  with  the  same 
tranquil  and  unalterable  expression  of  melancholy.  It 
took  up  no  small  bit  of  time  to  get  our  women,  servants 
and  children  on  horseback,  in  carts,  and  carriages,  on  asses 
and  mules.  Every  tenant  of  the  mountain  was  somehow 
provided  for  in  this  way.  The  slightly  wounded  were 
placed  in  the  baggage  wagon.  Those  who  could  not  bear 
removal  were  sent  with  a  flag  to  a  village  near  by  and 
recommended  to  the  mercy  of  the  enemy.  In  a  couple 
of  hours  this  straggling  procession,  that  seemed  to  cover 
the  plain,  took  up  the  line  of  march. 


The  Two  Camps  United.  221 

At  another  time  I  should  have  expected  to  find  an 
intense  interest  in  this  journey.  Nature  was  just  as 
varied  and  beautiful  as  though  she  had  been  arrayed  for 
the  contemplation  of  a  single,  thoughtful  and  solitary 
traveler.  But  the  hurry  of  a  march,  the  distraction  of 
thought  which  ensues  from  finding  yourself  participating 
in  the  same  toils,  pleasures  and  events  with  such  a  multi- 
tude, naturally  turn  the  eye  and  the  mind  from  the  con- 
templation of  nature  to  the  concerns  and  the  little  pleas- 
ures of  your  fellow  beings.  The  difficulty  of  finding  food 
and  water  for  such  a  multitude  in  a  country  so  little  in- 
habited was  a  formidable  impediment  to  that  reckless 
tranquillity  necessary  for  the  pleasantness  of  a  journey. 
Quarrels  and  petty  vexations,  the  giving  out  of  horses 
and  breaking  down  of  carriages,  the  screaming  of  chil- 
dren, and  such  other  miseries  were  frequently  occurring. 
I  had  often  been  struck  with  the  romantic  beauty  of  the 
scene  of  our  encampments  when  my  small  party  was 
journeying  to  this  country.  The  encampment  of  an  army, 
attended  by  women  and  children,  furnished  a  view  still 
more  picturesque  and  imposing.  The  army  halts  on  the 
banks  of  a  running  stream.  The  beasts  are  unharnessed. 
A  thousand  hatchets  attack  the  groves  to  furnish  fuel  for 
preparing  supper  and  fires  for  the  night.  The  long  ranges 
of  tents  whiten  in  the  fading  light  of  the  day.  A  cheer- 
ful and  bustling  city  sprung  up  as  if  by  enchantment. 
Visits  and  parties  are  projected.  The  confused  murmur 
of  the  thousand  voices  is  heard.  The  soldier  whistles  as 
his  supper  is  preparing,  and  there  is  always  some  scrap- 
ing of  the  violin  and  thumming  of  the  guitar.  The 
ranges  of  fires  furnish  another  source  of  beauty.  Dry 
and  combustible  wood  is  sought,  and  by  its  bright  blaze 
everything  in  the  camp  is  still  more  visible  than  by  the 
light  of  day. 


222  Robert  Gordon. 

The  only  remark  that  occurred  to  me  in  relation  to 
our  grand  object  was  that  the  people  all  were,  or  feigned 
to  be,  true  patriots,  and  we  were  welcomed  as  deliverers 
by  the  people,  who  would  have  gladly  seen  us  all  in  the 
Red  Sea.  We  took  them  at  their  word  and  caressed  them 
for  their  forced  patriotism,  which  brought  to  us  all  that 
their  means  could  furnish.  As  soon  as  we  approached  a 
village,  a  settlement  or  a  town,  the  domestic  animals  and 
the  fowls  all  seemed  to  understand  that  we  were  carnivor- 
ous animals.  The  cattle  and  the  pigs  fled  from  our  path 
and  the  fowls  flew  screaming  away.  In  fact,  like  the 
grasshoppers  of  Egypt,  we  cleared  everything  that  was 
eatable  out  of  our  way.  We  passed  two  or  three  consider- 
able towns,  among  them  Lanedo,  and  they  were  so  occu- 
pied and  fortified  by  royal  troops  that  we  deemed  it  ex- 
pedient to  pass  around  them  without  attempting  an  at- 
tack. At  each  place  we  sent  in  a  flag  proposing  to  pass 
the  town  unmolested  on  condition  that  certain  supplies 
should  be  furnished  us,  for  which  we  were  to  pay  a  fair 
price,  and  that  no  annoyance  should  be  attempted  on  either 
side.  At  the  Eio  Grande  some  companies  of  royal  pro- 
vincials made  a  night  assault  upon  our  camp,  which  pro- 
duced a  great  deal  of  consternation,  in  which  some  of 
our  young  men  behaved  badly.  But  we  soon  found  out  the 
strength  and  position  of  the  foe  and  easily  drove  them 
away.  The  mutual  criminations  and  charges  of  cowardice, 
during  this  attack,  resulted  in  producing  two  duels  in 
the  morning,  in  one  of  which  one  of  the  parties  was 
slain,  and  the  other  dangerously  wounded.  We  did  not 
much  regret  the  slain,  for  he  had  been  quarrelsome  and 
unruly  on  the  mountain,  and  although  he  fell  in  a  duel, 
had  been  a  notorious  coward. 

The  first  news  we  got  of  the  Royal  Army  was  here. 
The  Conde's  forces  were  much  better  mounted  than  we 


The  Two  Camps  United.  223 

were.  They  had  marched  from  the  mountain  by  a  shorter 
route,  and  at  the  time  we  were  crossing  the  Rio  Grande 
they  had  probably  arrived  at  San  Antonio.  It  appeared 
that  the  Conde  intended  to  make  his  permanent  headquar- 
ters there,  for  he  had  passed  with  his  whole  household 
establishment.  This  intelligence  went  to  convince  us 
that  we  should  have  an  efficient  campaign  and  plenty  of 
fighting. 

The  patriots,  with  their  allies  from  the  United  States, 
had  been  engaged  in  the  siege  of  San  Antonio,  which 
place  was  on  the  eve  of  capitulating,  when  the  Conde  ar- 
rived with  his  forces  and  raised  the  siege.  The  united 
forces  of  the  patriots,  awed  by  the  imposing  force  which 
the  Conde  brought,  retired  five  miles  from  the  town,  and 
entrenched  themselves  behind  the  beautiful  little  river 
which  waters  it.  We  sent  forward  messengers  to  advise 
them  of  our  approach;  the  exhilaration  of  our  men  may 
be  imagined,  when,  after  such  a  long  march,  we  at  length 
saw  the  white  tents  of  our  allies.  They  received  us  with 
great  joy,  discharges  of  cannon,  beating  of  drums,  and 
every  possible  demonstration  of  welcome.  Congratula- 
tions in  English  and  Spanish  were  exchanged,  the  usual 
eager  questions  asked,  and  it  seemed  the  meeting  of  a 
band  of  brothers.  For  myself,  no  one  can  tell  my  feel- 
ings, when,  in  one  part  of  the  camp,  I  saw  the  stars  and 
stripes  fluttering  in  the  breeze,  and  viewed  the  well  re- 
membered countenances  and  costumes,  and  heard  the  lan- 
guage of  my  own  dear  country.  The  first  glance  among 
the  troops  from  the  United  States  convinced  me  that  they 
were  of  standing  and  character.  My  astonishment  and 
joy  may  be  imagined  when  I  ascertained  that  one  of  the 
first  officers  of  this  establishment  was  a  graduate  and  class- 
mate of  mine  in  my  own  Alma  Mater.  My  communion 
with  him,  of  course,  was  sweet.  I  had  the  pleasure  of  in- 


224  Robert  Gordon. 

troducing  this  young  gentleman,  as  well  as  a  number  of 
other  respectable  young  men  from  the  United  States,  to 
our  chief,  Morelos,  and  to  De  Vonpelt  and  his  fair  daugh- 
ters. The  delight  of  both  parties  was  visible — of  our 
chiefs  to  see  highminded  and  educated  young  men  united 
to  their  cause,  and  of  my  young  compatriots,  to  be  intro- 
duced to  such  beautiful  girls,  whose  deportment  and  the 
richness  of  whose  dress  evinced  so  much  rank  and  fashion ; 
while  they,  in  turn,  found  all  their  anticipations  more 
than  realized  in  these  fine  young  men.  The  solemn  face 
of  Morelos  relaxed  for  a  moment.  De  Vonpelt  capered 
for  joy  that  he  could  not  conceal.  "Now,  mein  Gott,"  said 
he,  "if  dis  pe  not  Sharmony  itself!  Can't  you  speak 
Tuch,  young  gentlemen?  Oh!  it  is  such  men  that  is  de 
ting  to  peat  de  liperties  out  of  the  Dons."  When  we  were 
left  to  ourselves,  even  the  sage  Katie  and  the  meek  Etta 
congratulated  me  in  high  glee,  that  now  they  had  hopes, 
that  they  should  not  fail  to  find  a  beau,  and  that  I  should 
be  in  less  danger  of  not  being  remembered,  for  the  sake 
of  an  equal  partition.  Fergus's  head,  too,  swam  with  joy ; 
for  there  was  not  only  a  great  supply  of  whisky  in  the 
camp,  but  English  was  spoken  there;  there  were  also  a 
number  of  his  compatriots  from  the  green  island, 
who  spoke  with  the  knowing  brogue. 


Twice  a  Captive.  225 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

TWICE    A    CAPTIVE. 

Better  ~be 

Where  the  extinguished  Spartans  still  are  free, 
In  the  proud  charnel  of  Thermopylce. 

— BYRON. 

THE  first  night  after  the  junction  I  passed  in  the  tent 
of  my  classmate.  He  gave  me  a  succinct,  but  most  inter- 
esting, narrative  of  his  fortune  since  we  had  separated 
from  each  other  in  the  halls  of  our  Alma  Mater.  As  the 
character  and  the  fate  of  that  interesting  body  of  young 
men,  who  were  now  united  with  the  Mexican  patriots, 
and  many  of  whom  at  this  moment  fill  the  first  offices  in 
Louisiana,  have  never  yet  been  given  to  the  public,  and 
as  they  are  henceforward  identified  in  the  same  cause 
with  myself,  I  shall  take  leave  to  digress  from  the  thread 
of  my  narrative  to  give  you  a  very  brief  outline  of  the  rise 
and  progress  of  this  expedition  to  Texas,  as  my  classmate 
gave  it  to  me. 

Among  the  first  adherents  of  Hidalgo,  whose  fate  has 
been  mentioned,  was  Don  Jose  Bernardo  Guttierez,  whom 
we  shall  designate  by  his  customary  appellation,  Ber- 
nardo. He  was  a  native  of  a  small  town  on  the  banks  of 
the  Rio  Grande,  in  the  province  of  New  Santander.  He 


226  Robert  Gordon. 

was  originally  a  silversmith  by  trade,  and  by  unusual  ele- 
gance in  his  art  he  had  amassed  a  handsome  fortune. 
After  the  execution  of  Hidalgo  he  was  obliged  to  fly.  He 
made  his  way  to  the  United  States  by  land,  and  his  prop- 
erty was  confiscated.  His  first  object,  after  his  arrival 
there,  was  to  raise  an  interest  in  the  cause  of  Mexico. 
His  plan  was  to  obtain  the  countenance  of  the  Govern- 
ment, enlist  volunteers,  whose  thoughts  he  could  contrive 
to  turn  toward  this  El  Dorado,  this  region  of  gold,  and 
penetrate  with  them  by  the  way  of  the  Sabine,  into  the 
interior.  But  the  wise  and  calculating  government  of 
the  United  States  had  not  yet  seen  the  efforts  of  the 
Mexicans  sufficiently  matured  to  give  him  any  public 
countenance.  Mr.  Clay  had  not  yet  been  heard  alternately 
in  song  and  thunder  upon  this  subject.  Bernardo  re- 
turned to  Natchitoches,  on  the  Spanish  frontier,  without 
pecuniary  means  and  without  any  public  demonstration 
in  his  favor.  He  was  still  full  of  hope  and  fired  with  zeal. 
Like  many  other  men,  self-denominated  patriots,  it  was 
difficult  to  ascertain  which  element  preponderated  in  him, 
revenge,  or  a  love  of  liberty,  cupidity  and  ambition,  or 
a  desire  to  liberate  his  country.  He  was  destitute  alike 
of  genuine  moral  and  physical  courage,  was  of  limited 
understanding,  savage  in  his  temperament,  and  coarse 
and  repulsive  in  his  manners.  But  he  had  great  practical 
adroitness  at  intrigue,  and  that  undoubting  confidence 
in  his  cause,  which  is  so  indispensable  in  a  partisan.  This 
unshaking  confidence  led  him  still  to  hope  when  others 
despaired,  and  to  persevere  when  others  forsook  the  cause. 
Had  I  time  to  trace  him  in  detail,  he  was,  all  in  all, 
singular  in  character  and  as  singular  in  fortune.  I  can 
only  find  time  here  to  record  the  last  singular  incident  in 
his  life,  by  which  he  acquired  a  certain  kind  of  notoriety. 
It  was  this  same  man,  who,  after  a  great  diversity  of  for- 


Twice  a  Captive.  227 

tune,  was  commander  in  the  province  where  the  ex- 
emperor  Iturbide  landed  from  Great  Britain. 

A  party  of  gentlemen  at  Natchitoches,  many  of  whom 
now  fill  the  most  responsible  stations  in  the  country, 
were  at  this  time  disposed  to  aid  Bernardo  in  his  plans, 
or  at  least  to  lend  their  assistance  to  the  fermenting  prin- 
ciple of  republicanism  in  the  adjacent  Spanish  country. 
They  could  not  expect  to  succeed  to  any  extent,  in  an 
expedition  into  that  country,  unless  they  could  carry  with 
them  the  efficacy  of  a  name  of  some  distinguished  native 
of  the  country.  Such  a  character  was  offered  in  Bernardo. 
They  selected  him,  therefore,  as  the  covering  of  their 
battery.  He  marched  at  the  head  of  the  expedition,  just 
as  the  Koman  eagles  were  carried  before  their  legions. 
Many  gallant  and  highminded  men,  to  whom  no  career 
was  open  in  the  United  States,  who  disdained  oppression, 
and  under  that  generous  feeling,  probably  concealed  from 
themselves  dawning  ambition,  and  cupidity  fired  with  the 
prospect  of  the  Mexican  mines,  united  west  of  the  Sabine. 
Their  avowed  object  was  to  aid  the  patriots  to  free  this 
oppressed  and  beautiful  country.  They  chose  a  highly 
respected  young  man  of  their  number,  then  a  captain 
in  the  United  States  Army,  their  colonel.  Their  number 
was  small,  but  of  a  character  to  attach  importance  and 
confidence  to  their  enterprise.  As  they  advanced  into  the 
country  their  number  was  increased  rapidly  by  adven- 
turers from  the  United  States.  There  were  many  Ameri- 
cans already  settled  in  the  country,  and  they  generally 
placed  themselves  under  the  standard  of  the  American 
volunteers.  Many  respectable  Mexicans  joined  them. 
They  formally  declared  the  independence  of  the  province 
of  Texas  and  instituted  a  temporary  government. 

Nacogdoches  is  the  first  town  in  the  province,  in  pass- 
ing from  the  Sabine  toward  the  interior,  and  is  about 


428  Robert  Gordon. 

seventy  miles  from  that  river.  I  shall  always  remember 
the  place,  for  it  has  the  aspect,  though  delightfully  sit- 
uated, of  being  as  lonely  as  an  island  in  the  South  Sea. 
Clear  and  beautiful  streams  flow  from  the  hills  near  the 
town,  uniting  in  a  small  river  just  below  it.  At  that 
time  a  small  body  of  royal  provincial  troops  was  sta- 
tioned there,  and  the  place  contained  the  usual  and  neces- 
sary accompaniments  of  a  Spanish  town,  a  church,  cala- 
boose, commander's  house,  and  about  five  hundred  inhabi- 
tants. The  American  volunteers  were  received  by  the 
inhabitants  of  this  place  and  vicinity  with  open  arms. 
The  small  detachment  of  royal  troops  joined  them,  and 
a  large  company  of  Creoles  was  formed  under  the  com- 
mand of  Captain  Samuel  Davenport.  Immense  herds  of 
cattle  filled  the  valleys  of  this  paradise  of  shepherds;  and 
supplies  of  provisions,  especially  of  meat,  were  easy  and 
abundant. 

The  body  of  troops  was  now  swollen  to  something  like 
the  dimensions  of  an  army.  They  organized  a  junta  for 
the  provisional  government,  and  moved  on  without  oppo- 
sition, and  took  possession  of  Le  Bahia.  The  town  stands 
on  the  western  bank  of  the  San  Antonio  Eiver,  on  an  ele- 
vated site  which  commands  the  surrounding  country.  It 
contained  a  fort  of  stone,  with  bastions  of  considerable 
regularity.  A  large  and  massive  stone  church  made  one 
side  of  the  bastion.  Its  small  garrison  surrendered  to 
us  without  opposition,  and  immediately  joined  our  forces. 
Our  effective  force  was  now  considerable,  and  it  was  the 
intention  of  Bernardo,  or,  rather  of  the  American  com- 
mander, to  march  immediately  to  the  attack  of  San  An* 
tonio,  the  capital  of  the  province. 

Before  this  could  be  effected  the  royal  army  moved  down 
in  force  from  San  Antonio  for  the  attack  of  La  Bahia. 
It  was  commanded  by  Don  Simon  Hererra  and  Salcedo, 


Twice  a  Captive.  229 

and  was  estimated  at  fifteen  Hundred  men,  chiefly  mounted 
Creoles  of  the  province.  They  had  a  number  of  pieces 
of  artillery,  which  were  so  badly  managed  as  to  be  of  little 
utility  to  them.  Our  troops  took  post  in  a  large  and  un- 
commonly massive  building,  which  had  been  erected  for 
the  seat  of  a  mission,  and  was  inhabited  by  some  of  the 
converted  Indians.  It  was  quite  surprising  that  such  a 
place  should  have  been  so  long  defended  against  such  an 
imposing  force,  in  possession  of  so  much  artillery.  But 
the  royal  commanders  seemed  to  have  been  paralyzed. 
They  did  not  at  all  want  for  courage.  But  they  seemed 
to  have  been  panic  stricken  with  the  novel  aspect  of  men, 
whom  they  had  seen  tame,  subdued  and  submissive,  and  as 
timid  as  grasshoppers,  all  at  once,  by  the  new  spirit  of 
republicanism,  transformed  into  a  fierce,  if  not  a  formid- 
able foe.  They  were  evidently  suspicious,  too,  of  the  fidelity 
of  the  provincials  that  were  under  them.  They  were 
aware  that  these  men  would  naturally  participate  in  the 
same  spirit  with  the  rest.  The  siege  continued  during  the 
whole  winter,  and  was  signalized  by  many  sorties  and 
skirmishes,  in  which  the  garrison  displayed  incredible 
acts  of  daring  and  hardihood.  The  royal  commanders 
attempted  to  get  rid  of  the  garrison  by  proposing  to  let 
them  depart  in  safety.  They  even  offered  them  a  supply 
of  provisions  if  they  would  march  away  to  the  frontier. 
But  this  handful  of  brave  and  determined  men  set  all  the 
efforts  of  the  besieging  army  at  defiance. 

At  length,  either  alarmed  or  tired  out,  the  royal  troops 
drew  off  from  the  siege  without  striking  a  blow.  The 
Americans,  without  military  science  and  with  no  other 
resource  than  their  native  gallantry  and  the  internal  con- 
sciousness of  the  dignity  of  freemen,  had  learned  heartily 
to  despise  the  royal  forces  and  in  many  instances  had 
shown  themselves  brave  and  determined  soldiers.  Soon 


230  Robert  Gordon. 

after  the  retreat  of  the  royal  army  the  patriots  were  re- 
inforced by  a  band  of  Conehatty  Indians,  and  in  their 
turn  moved  as  assailants  against  the  Royalists.  At 
the  distance  of  eight  miles  from  San  Antonio  the 
patriots  fell  in  with  the  royal  army,  which  moved 
out  of  town  to  meet  them,  having  been  reinforced 
by  the  regular  garrison  of  the  town.  They  entrenched 
themselves  on  a  rising  ground  and  in  an  advantageous 
position  behind  the  river  Salado.  The  patriots,  not  half 
their  number,  formed  and  rushed  to  the  attack  with  the 
most  determined  fury  and  with  terrible  effect.  They 
charged  upon  the  royal  battery,  carried  it,  and  turned  the 
pieces  against  the  foe.  The  Spanish  royal  officers,  too, 
acted  with  great  gallantry,  but  their  troops  were  completely 
routed.  Major  Reuben  Ross,  of  the  patriots,  and  Colonel 
Montero,  of  the  royal  troops,  both  well  mounted,  had  a. 
personal  encounter,  single  handed  in  the  midst  of  the 
battle.  Montero  was  severely  wounded  and  the  life  of 
Ross  was  saved  only  by  the  intervention  of  one  of  his 
soldiers,  by  the  name  of  Owen,  who  was  killed  by  the 
blow  that  saved  his  commander.  Immediately  on  this  de- 
feat the  royalists  took  .shelter  again  in  San  Antonio. 

Such  had  been  the  state  of  things  before  I  arrived  at 
this  place.  I  arrived  here  in  company  with  Bernardo,  and 
a  considerable  number  of  adventurous  French,  Spanish, 
Yankees,  and  people  of  all  nations.  I  had  become  ac- 
quainted with  this  extraordinary  man  in  Philadelphia. 
I  imbibed,  in  common  with  the  rest  of  my  compatriots, 
something  of  his  confident  spirit.  The  mines  glittered  in 
prospective.  The  hope  of  emancipating  an  oppressed 
people  operated  as  an  excitement  to  more  noble  feelings. 
There  was  a  press  already  in  operation,  and  it  was  to  pour 
the  light  of  liberty  upon  that  vast  and  beautiful  country. 


Twice  a  Captive.  231 

I  was  fresh  from  college,  and  the  visions  of  Plato's  re- 
public flashed  across  my  mind,  and  I  felt  all  the  san- 
guine anticipations  of  a  youthful  legislator  and  emanci- 
pator. Many  adventurers  joined  us  from  time  to 
time.  Bernardo  loaned  five  thousand  dollars  and  I 
as  many  hundred,  to  be  repaid  on  the  day  in  which 
we  should  take  possession  of  the  mines  and  mint  of 
Mexico.  We  moved  to  the  southwest,  on  the  course  of 
the  Ohio.  Here  we  endured  all  that  human  nature  could 
endure,  hunger,  want,  disaffection  among  ourselves,  and 
what  was  to  be  the  most  overwhelming  consideration  of 
all,  the  discovery  that  some  of  our  party  were  arrant 
scoundrels  who  knew  nothing  about  Plato,  and  cared  noth- 
ing about  freedom;  who  would  steal  if  they  should  have 
a  chance,  from  the  mint,  but  who  would  never  have  the 
courage  to  seek  for  the  contents  in  any  other  way.  Our 
boat  was  twice  frozen  up  in  the  river,  and  we  were  al- 
ternately a  spectacle  of  ridicule  and  terror  to  the  people 
among  whom  we  were  bound  in  the  ice.  Every  language 
was  spoken  on  our  floating  Babel,  and  while  we  talked  of 
subduing  and  emancipating  empires,  most  of  our  rogues 
would  have  fled  from  the  sight  of  a  sheriff.  While  we 
were  preparing  to  legislate  for  the  empire  of  Montezuma, 
we  were  daily  quarreling  among  ourselves  and  talking 
flippantly  about  the  mines  of  Mexico,  we  wanted  shirts 
and  bread.  You  can  easily  make  a  fancy  sketch  of  the 
events,  the  anecdotes  and  the  comforts  of  the  communion 
of  such  an  assortment  of  apostles  of  liberty.  For  my 
part,  I  laughed  to  find  myself  in  such  company.  I 
said  to  my?elf,  the  cause  cannot  be  contaminated  by  the 
character  of  those  who  are  with  me,  nor  can  my  motives 
be  rendered  impure  by  co-operating  with  the  impure  mo- 
tives of  others.  In  due  process  of  time,  and  with  such 
comfort  as  we  might  find  in  such  company,  we  arrived 


232  Robert  Gordon. 

where  you  now  find  us."  Such  was  the  outline  of  the 
narrative  of  my  friend. 

With  the  society  of  these  new  and  pleasant  associates, 
our  time  flew  rapidly  and  we  were  again  so  pleasantly 
situated  as  to  hear  the  sentiment  of  Mt.  Mextpal  re- 
iterated, that  it  was  good  for  us  to  be  here,  and  the  wish 
that  no  change  might  alter  the  present  aspect  of  things. 
There  was  one  material  difference  between  this  place  and 
that.  Here  we  were  in  an  open  plain  which  admitted  of 
no  other  defence  than  intrenchments,  and  could  be  forced 
to  a  battle  at  the  choice  of  the  assailants.  The  faces  of 
the  Misses  De  Vonpelt  were  again  pale  with  terror,  for  we 
determined,  in  a  council  of  war,  to  make  an  assault  upon 
San  Antonio.  Flushed  by  the  augmented  spirit  and  num- 
bers of  our  united  forces,  we  sanguinely  calculated  upon 
a  successful  attack.  The  royal  troops  were  commanded 
by  the  Conde,  Salcedo,  and  Hererra.  In  a  week  from  the 
time  of  our  junction  we  moved  up  in  view  of  San  An- 
tonio. 

The  royal  army  came  out  to  meet  us  and  the  issue 
was  a  pitched  battle.  Any  one  can  have  a  surfeit  of  de- 
scriptions of  scenes  of  carnage  and  blood  on  any  page  of 
history.  I  do  not  wish  to  go  into  the  horrible  details  of 
this.  It  was  a  severe  and  fiercely  contested  struggle, 
which  lasted  almost  through  the  day.  The  Royalists  had 
entrenched  themselves,  and  were  defended  by  a  deep  ra- 
vine. They  also  had  the  advantage  of  us  in  horse  and 
artillery.  Twice  we  rushed  upon  their  front,  and  twice 
we  were  repelled  with  great  loss.  No  ways  disheartened, 
the  gallant  leaders  of  the  Patriots  rushed  upon  them  again, 
and  in  this  third  attack,  we  succeeded  in  pushing  them 
from  the  ravine  and  in  crossing  it  with  our  whole  forco. 
The  fight  was  renewed  upon  more  equal  terms,  and  as  it 
was  the  charge  that  would  determine  the  result  of  the  day, 


Twice  a  Captive.  233 

it  was  the  struggle  of  despair.  It  was  a  contest  of  man 
with  man,  and  horse  with  horse.  I  had  the  gratification 
of  the  first  wish  of  my  heart.  I  met  Colonel  De  Oli,  and 
was  as  well  mounted  as  he,  and  he  could  not  escape  me. 
Not  having  learned  the  sword  exercise,  I  felt  that  with 
the  sabre  I  should  not  meet  him  on  equal  terms.  He 
fired  his  pitol  upon  me  without  effect,  and  I  discharged 
mine  at  his  horse's  breast.  The  horse  reared,  and  in  plung- 
ing, dismounted  his  rider.  I  instantly  dismounted  too. 
I  was  fortunate  enough  to  turn  aside  the  blow  of  his 
sabre  and  close  with  him.  I  threw  him  to  the  ground, 
put  my  foot  on  his  breast,  and,  in  the  fury  of  the  contest, 
and  in  the  exasperation  of  my  revenge,  my  first  impulse 
was  to  cleave  his  head  from  his  body.  Perhaps  it  was  the 
second  thought  of  a  more  bitter  revenge,  but  it  presented 
itself  to  me  as  the  more  noble  one,  to  spare  him.  I 
wrenched  his  sabre  from  him  as  he  held  up  his  powerless 
arm  in  the  attitude  of  entreaty.  I  struck  it  deep  in  the 
ground  and  by  a  twist  broke  it  as  if  it  had  been  a  straw 
and  threw  the  pieces  from  me.  "Spare  me,"  said  he,  in 
Spanish,  "and  I  will  resign  all  pretensions  to  Isabel.  She 
loves  you  yet."  "Poltroon!"  I  answered,  "we  have  met 
at  last.  I  ought  to  wash  away  the  remembrance  of  your 
pitiful  and  malicious  persecutions  in  your  blood.  But 
I  will  show  you  the  difference  between  a  man  and  a  wretch 
whose  blood  is  too  base  to  stain  my  .sabre.  I  saved  you 
once  from  motives  of  humanity.  I  now  spare  you  through 
contempt.  I  will  not  owe  the1  favor  of  Isabel  to  the  cir- 
cumstance of  your  resigning  it."  Saying  this,  I  turned 
my  back  upon  him.  I  had  gone  from  him  but  a  few 
steps  when  I  received  from  him  a  shot  from  a  carbine, 
which  passed  through  my  clothes.  A  truer  aim  by  two 
inches  would  have  been  fatal.  He  had  found  the  undis- 
charged carbine  of  a  fallen  soldier  and  fired  upon  me  in 


234  Robert  Gordon. 

his  retreat.  I  turned  to  pursue  him,  determined  to  kill 
him,  but  he  was  already  mixed  with  the  solid  columns  of 
the  foe,  and  pursuit  was  in  vain.  It  was  a  long,  weary, 
and  bloody  day,  but  in  the  end  the  Eoyalists  retreated 
and  left  us  an  undisputed  victory. 

Nothing  now  interposed  between  us  and  the  town,  and 
we  commenced  the  siege  of  it  with  great  vigor.  On  the  third 
day  of  the  siege  the  town  surrendered  at  discretion  and 
the  Royal  forces  were  made  prisoners  of  war.  We  had 
now  a  scene  before  us  of  which  I  had  read  in  history,  and 
which  I  had  seen  portrayed  by  the  pencil  or  the  coloring 
of  the  poet.  It  was  here  before  me  on  a  small  scale.  But 
all  representations  were  faint,  compared  with  the  horrible 
reality,  of  the  entrance  of  an  army  composed  of  such 
discordant  materials  as  ours,  with  so  little  subordination 
and  so  exasperated  by  the  very  nature  of  this  kind  of 
warfare,  it  was  only  by  the  greatest  exertion,  and  by  mak- 
ing some  terrible  examples  of  our  own  men  that  we  saved 
the  town  from  the  utmost  extremes  of  merciless  and  wanton 
cruelty,  lust,  cupidity,  murder  and  burning  that  are  gen- 
erally consequent  upon  such  an  event.  Our  Spanish  allies 
were  too  much  inclined  to  cruelty  and  to  exercise  all  the 
dreadful  rites  of  conquest.  I  felt  proud  to  see  how  differ- 
ent a  spirit  was  manifested  by  my  own  countrymen.  The 
noble  young  men  to  whom  nature  on  such  occasions  as- 
signs the  tone  and  authority  of  command,  were,  as  it 
seemed,  almost  endowed  with  the  attribute  of  omnipres- 
ence. Wherever  I  went  I  saw  them  sheltering  the  women 
and  children  and  performing  the  noblest  offices  of  hu- 
manity. Wherever  an  American  went  the  Spanish  women 
flew  to  him  as  to  an  asylum  from  their  own  countrymen. 

By  the  influence  of  De  Vonpelt,  with  Morelos  and  Ber- 
nardo, to  my  regiment  was  assigned  the  guarding  of  the 
palace.  Of  course  the  Conde,  with  his  household,  fell 


Twice  a  Captive.  235 

under  my  control  as  prisoners  of  war;  while  Salcedo,  the 
two  Hererras,  and  the  other  chiefs,  were  in  the  keeping 
of  the  other  American  officers.  I  had  never  yet  been  called 
to  a  task  go  extremely  irksome  and  awkward,  I  might  even 
say,  so  distressing,  as  that  of  introducing  myself  to  the 
Conde,  who  had  taken  shelter  in  the  midst  of  his  household. 
The  carnage  had  hardly,  and  with  much  difficulty,  been 
arrested  in  the  streets  when  my  regiment  entered  the 
courtyard  of  the  palace.  The  servants,  many  of  whom 
knew  me,  crowded  about  me,  called  me  by  name,  fell  on 
their  knees  before  me  and  begged  me,  crossing  themselves, 
to  spare  them.  At  the  same  time  they  were  eloquent  in 
their  attempts  to  flatter  me,  thanking  Our  Lady  of  Guada- 
loupe  and  all  the  saints  that  they  had  fallen  into  the 
hands  of  so  good  a  man,  who  they  knew  would  spare  the 
family  for  the  sake  of  their  dear  mistress.  I  sent  them 
away  comforted  and  assured,  and  asked  one  of  them  to 
lead  me  to  the  Conde.  His  clothes  were  stained  with 
blood,  and  the  grim  sternness  of  battle  was  still  on  his 
features.  Knowing  that  he  was  my  prisoner,  he  felt  him- 
self safe,  and  his  manner  was  determined  and  his  bearing 
indignantly  proud.  "And  is  it  to  you,  young  man,"  ?aid 
he,  "that  I  am  to  give  up  my  good  sword?  This  is  a  fall 
indeed !"  At  the  same  time  he  handed  it  to  me.  "Ycurs." 
he  continued,  "at  this  moment  is  not  exactly  the  function 
of  a  schoolmaster.  You  have,  indeed,  come  all  this  dis- 
tance to  confer  freedom  upon  this  ignorant  people.  As 
yet,  I  think  you  have  gained  little  gold  except  the  proper 
reward  of  your  lessons  or  the  gift  of  my  lady." 

I  answered  him,  "Your  Excellency  can  rail  at  me  now 
as  you  choose  with  impunity.  You  must  be  aware  of  my 
character,  and  that,  being  in  my  power,  you  are  safe. 
You  forget  that  I  once  refused  gold.  For  the  rest,  sir, 
so  situated  I  should  have  thought  you  too  much  of  a 


236  Robert  Gordon. 

soldier  to  play  off  this  harmless  war  of  abuse.  I  cannot 
accept  your  sword,  and  I  shall  only  avail  myself  of  the 
present  streak  of  fortune,  by  using  her  capricious  power 
for  the  protection  of  your  family.  This  I  would  do,  even 
against  your  will.  It  would  please  me  much  more  if,  sub- 
mitting to  the  chances  of  fortune  as  a  philosopher,  you 
would  let  me  know  how  I  can  be  of  service  to  you."  I 
bowed  slightly  to  the  father  confessor  and  with  a  particu- 
lar expression  of  indignation  and  contempt  to  Don 
De  Oli.  Two  or  three  other  officers,  who  had  accompanied 
the  Conde  to  battle  as  aides,  I  dismissed  as  belonging  to 
another  portion  of  our  force,  and  pointed  out  some  ar- 
rangements by  which  the  family  was  to  be  guarded,  in 
order  to  avail  themselves  of  my  protection.  The  Condesa 
and  her  daughter,  with  pale  countenances,  but  firm  and 
composed,  sat  in  a  recess.  I  advanced  toward  them  and 
bowed,  waiting  for  them  to  address  me.  Though  Dona 
Isabel  affected  to  be  calm,  I  discovered,  by  the  heaving 
of  her  bosom,  the  painful  efforts  which  this  assumed  calm- 
ness cost  her.  The  Condesa  returned  my  bow,  observing 
that  since  the  cruel  result  of  this  unnatural  rebellion  had 
cast  them  into  the  power  of  the  rebels,  she  was  thankful 
that  it  was  into  my  command ;  that  this  secured  them,  she 
was  aware,  so  far  as  my  protection  could  extend,  from 
outrage  and  insult.  Dona  Isabel  added  that  she  too  could 
go  so  far  in  thankfulness  that  my  memory,  short  as  it 
appeared  to  have  been,  could  not  but  recur  to  the  past; 
that  while  she  seemed  to  be  the  condescending  party,  I 
could  not  but  have  known  how  she  had  suffered  from  her 
father,  Colonel  De  Oli,  the  father  confessor,  and  others 
on  the  charge  of  an  ill-judged  partiality  for  me.  These, 
if  mistakes,  were  the  mistakes  of  gratitude  and  a  desire 
to  discover  and  countenance  merit  under  a  cloud.  The 
case  was  now  reversed.  The  humble  are  exalted  and  the 


Twice  a  Captive.  237 

proud  brought  low.  "Rut  I  hope/'  she  continued,  "that 
my  father  hereafter  will  more  readily  believe  that  the 
spirit  of  my  father  has  descended  to  me.  Let  him  know, 
and  let  all  know,  that  I  feel  very  differently  towards  the 
triumphant  rebel  Colonel,  although  at  this  moment  we 
are  in  his  power.  The  man  in  arms  against  my  king,  my 
father,  and  my  church,  though  fortune  has  granted  him  a 
momentary  triumph,  is  to  me  a  very  different  and  far  less 
estimable  personage  than  the  learned,  modest  and  intrepid 
youthful  instructor.  Alas!  so  young,  and  yet  so  un- 
fortunate! You  have  seen  me  twice  a  captive."  "To 
Watook  first,"  I  replied,  "and  now  to  another  and  a  differ- 
ent kind  of  savage,  is  it,  Dona  Isabel?"  She  paused  a 
moment  for  an  answer.  The  first  burst  of  indignant  pride 
had  passed.  Another  current  of  feeling  succeeded.  "Oh, 
no !"  she  answered.  "We  are  not  so  unjust.  Let  me  not 
forget  what  I  owe  to  the  blessed  Virgin  and  to  you.  How 
thankful  I  am  to  God  and  the  Saints  that  my  dear  father 
and  mother  have  fallen  into  your  hands  and  not  into  the 
power  of  those  miscreants  that  are  associated  with  you." 
"I  am  not  less  thankful,"  added  her  mother.  "I  can 
easily  imagine  how  differently  this  catastrophe  would  have 
terminated  had  we  fallen  into  other  hands.  At  least  we 
are  all  safe  in  your  keeping;  sure  of  decorous  and  cour- 
teous treatment  and  of  every  indulgence  which  our  case 
will  admit." 

I  moved  as  if  to  retire.  The  Condesa  requested  me  to 
tarry  a  moment  and,  in  the  presence  of  her  husband  and 
Colonel  De  Oli,  hear  a  new  charge  that  had  been  brought 
against  me.  "It  may  seem,"  said  she,  "strange  for  prison- 
ers to  bring  a  youthful  conqueror  to  trial  before  them. 
But  I  am  confident  that  when  I  hear  your  reply  to  the 
charge  it  will  receive  another  and  a  more  favorable  con- 
struction from  you.  Don  De  Oli  charges  you  with  having 


238  Robert  Gordon. 

disgracefully  beaten  him,  after  he  had  fallen,  and  then 
with  having  fired  upon  him  after  you  had  had  the  affected 
magnanimity  to  allow  him  to  retire.  You  may  judge  his 
inference,  that  a  man  capable  of  such  a  base  use  of  power 
could  not  be  trusted  as  our  keeper."  "Have  you,  sir," 
cried  I,  turning  to  De  OH,  "made  this  courteous  report  of 
me?  And  is  it  possible  that  this  family  could  have  be- 
lieved it?  I  would  hardly  have  undertaken  to  vindicate 
myself  in  the  opinion  of  any  one  that  would  listen  to  such 
a  story.  I  can  hardly  bring  myself  so  far  to  trample  on 
the  fallen  as  to  refute  so  base  a  falsehood.  Were  the 
slanderer  in  any  other  place  and  condition,  I  would  apply 
to  him  the  epithets  he  deserves.  This  falsehood  has  not 
even  the  poor  merit  of  ingenuity  and  invention.  He  has 
only  charged  upon  me  the  treacherous  and  cowardly  con- 
duct which  he  practiced  himself.  Hear  the  case  as  it  was. 
All  laws,  human  and  divine,  would  have  justified  me  in 
putting  him  to  death  when  the  issue  of  the  battle  had 
placed  him  in  my  power.  Words  passed  between  him  and 
me  which  are  improper  to  be  repeated  here.  But  I  sent 
him  away  with  his  life,  and  I  turned  my  back  on  him 
in  confidence  that  for  this  time  at  least  I  was  secure  from 
his  assault.  Scarcely  had  I  turned  before  I  received  a 
shot  from  him  and  here,"  added  I,  showing  the  passage 
of  the  ball  through  my  clothes,  "is  the  evidence  of  his 
marksmanship." 

Even  the  effrontery  of  Don  De  Oli  seemed  to  shrink 
under  this  refutation.  He  had  always  seemed  to  sustain 
in  the  family  a  character  for  truth  and  honor.  The  father 
confessor,  who  had  heard  him  bring  the  charge  against 
me  when  they  were  rejoicing  together,  that  they  were  my 
prisoners,  called  upon  him  boldly  to  vindicate  himself 
from  this  falsehood,  or  forever  forfeit  all  claims  to  honor 


Twice  a  Captive.  239 

and  veracity.  He  evidently  suffered  the  tortures  of  a 
fiend.  He  answered,  in  a  faltering  voice :  "We  are  all  in 
his  power.  He  can  say  what  he  chooses.  I  have  too  much 
regard  for  the  safety  of  the  family  to  exasperate  such  a 
man  and  bring  his  persecution  and  vengeance  upon  them 
on  my  account."  "In  truth,"  said  I,  "Don  De  Oli,  you 
are  well  aware  on  what  ground  this  family  would  be  sure 
of  kindness  from  me,  say  or  do  your  worst.  For  you,  sir, 
before  this  I  at  least  gave  you  credit  for  the  virtues  of 
courage  and  truth.  You  are  below  all  notice,  below  all 
contempt,  and  if  I  bore  any  resentment  toward  you,  the 
torture  and  the  guilty  confessions  of  your  countenance 
would  now  evidence  all  that  the  deepest  revenge  could  de- 
sire." "My  dear  father,"  said  Isabel,  "do  you  not  see 
all  the  truth?  You  heard  the  charge,  and  you  see  the 
manner  with  which  he  receives  the  refutation.  Can  it 
be  now  that  you  would  wish  to  unite  my  fate  with  that 
of  such  a  man  ?  Holy  Virgin !  What  have  I  not  escaped  ? 
Let  me  be  sacrificed,  if  such  a  consummation  be  neces- 
sary; but  I  implore  you,  never  to  think  again  of  uniting 
me  with  dishonor."  "Daughter,"  said  the  Conde,  sternly, 
"desist.  I  am  wretched  enough  already.  You  will  not 
drive  me  mad,  I  trust,  by  espousing  the  cause  of  rebellion 
in  my  presence.  This  is  neither  the  time  nor  the  place 
for  either  the  trial  or  justification  of  Colonel  De  Oli.  He 
has  at  least  fought  bravely  for  his  king  and  country.  You 
cannot  wish  to  dishonor  the  gray  hairs  of  your  father  by 
recurring  again  to  the  defence  and  eulogy  of  our  conqueror 
in  his  presence."  "I  perceive,"  said  I,  slightly  bowing 
to  the  Conde,  'that  my  presence  is  disagreeable,  and  I  will 
relieve  you  of  it.  You  shall  find  me  watching  to  be  of 
service  to  you,  and  of  this  course  of  things  you  can  say  and 
think  as  you  choose.  My  business  shall  be  to  act  for  the 


240  Robert  Gordon. 

preservation  of  you  all,  and  yours  shall  be  to  put  your  own 
construction  upon  my  conduct."  I  stationed  Fergus  as 
a  sentinel  in  the  yard,  who,  by  his  acquaintance  with  the 
family,  and  his  native  shrewdness,  would  be  able  to  an- 
ticipate their  wants  and  ward  off  their  dangers. 


Rescued  Again.  241 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

BESCUED  AGAIN. 

I  SELECTED  my  headquarters  in  a  house  opposite  to  that 
where  dwelt  my  prisoners.  In  the  adjoining  one  were  the 
headquarters  of  Morelos  and  Bernardo.  De  Vonpelt's 
family  were  under  the  same  roof  with  me.  After  the  first 
tumults  of  the  occupation  of  the  town  were  over  the 
Americans  put  themselves  seriously  to  the  work  of  at- 
tempting to  procure  the  concurrence  of  their  allies  in  the 
effort  to  institute  an  efficient  police  and  to  adopt  meas- 
ures which  would  restore  the  march  and  order  and  assure 
protection  to  all.  It  was  a  painful  discovery  to  find  that 
our  allies  were  destitute,  to  the  most  humiliating  degree, 
of  all  subordination  and  genuine  tenderness,  and  that  they 
indulged  their  cruelty,  cupidity  and  lust  too  often  with- 
out restraint.  The  town  was  frequently  a  scene  of  riot 
and  brutal  excess.  All  discipline  was  relaxed  and  all  fear 
of  the  reaction  of  public  feeling  and  the  resuscitation  of 
the  royal  cause  was  thrown  to  the  winds.  Complaints 
of  outrage  and  violence  came  to  us  continually,  for  the 
wretched  people  soon  learned  that  they  had  little  redress 
to  expect  from  their  own  countrymen.  Morelos  would 
gladly  have  joined  his  full  influence  to  ours  in  redressing 
these  evils.  But  he  found  in  Bernardo  a  miserable  in- 
triguer, against  whose  wiles  he  was  obliged  to  exert  all 


242  Robert  Gordon. 

his  circumspection  to  retain  his  own  command.  Bernardo 
had  already  begun  to  raise  a  Spanish  party,  hostile  to 
American  influence,  and  denounced  Mbrelos  in  secret  whis- 
pers as  a  friend  of  the  Americans.  While  our  common 
danger  was  imminent  we  had  no  jars  and  made  common 
cause.  But  the  moment  the  surrender  of  San  Antonio 
had  concealed  present  danger  from  our  view,  innumerable 
heartburnings  began  to  spring  up  from  this  source.  The 
unfortunate  royalists  were  only  anxious  to  get  under  the 
protection  of  the  Americans.  Parties  soon  ran  high  and 
we  were  in  danger  of  coming  to  blows  with  our  new 
friends,  the  Creole  patriots.  These  disputes  soon  gave 
rise  to  a  definite  and  specific  cause  for  contention  which 
division  of  the  allied  troops  should  have  charge  of  the 
prisoners.  The  Spaniards  assumed  that  the  Americans 
pretended  only  to  act  as  auxiliaries,  the  ransom  of  the 
prisoners,  their  safe  keeping,  and  their  ultimate  disposal 
belonged  only  to  them.  In  the  surrender  the  prisoners 
had  made  it  a  term  that  they  surrendered  to  the  Americans, 
and  we  insisted  that  our  honor  was  concerned,  that  they 
should  not  be  placed  out  of  the  reach  of  our  protection. 
This  dispute  ran  so  high  that  at  a  fandango  at  which  the 
American  and  Spanish  officers  in  general  were  present, 
it  came  to  blows.  By  the  aid  of  their  father,  two  of  the 
American  officers,  and  Fergus,  I  was  able  to  bring  off  the 
Misses  Vonpelt  safe.  Fortunately  none  of  the  Conde's 
family  were  there.  It  was  a  battle  royal.  The  ladies' 
mantillas  were  destroyed  and  the  gentlemen's  heads  were 
broken,  the  dirk  was  liberally  used,  though,  by  good  for- 
tune, no  one  was  killed.  The  Misses  Vonpelt  were  ex- 
cessively alarmed  and  disgusted,  and  promised  their  father 
that  they  would  follow  the  example  of  the  Dona  Isabel,  who 
had  not  been  seen  abroad  since  the  capitulation. 

The  next  day  the  Spaniards  insisted  upon  having  the 


Rescued  Again.  243 

possession  of  the  prisoners,  and  assured  us  that  they  would 
gladly  obtain  them  with  our  consent,  but  that  otherwise 
they  would  have  them  by  force.  They  were  more  than 
quadruple  our  number  and  were  well  able  to  execute  their 
threats.  As  things  were  turning  we  were  but  too  well 
assured  that  in  their  jealousy  of  us  they  would  not  hesi- 
tate on  an  emergency  to  join  with  the  royalists  and  bring 
their  united  forces  upon  us.  It  was  obvious  that  their 
jealousy  of  the  Americans  preponderated  over  their  at- 
tachment to  the  common  cause.  In  a  conclave  of  the 
Americans  we  agreed  to  met  the  next  day  in  a  council  of 
war  and  fix  upon  some  final  arrangement  with  respect  to 
the  disposal  of  our  prisoners. 

On  my  returning  from  this  meeting  I  was  both  pleased 
and  surprised  to  receive  by  Fergus  a  verbal  message  from 
the  Conde,  requesting  me,  when  my  leisure  would  admit 
to  call  upon  him,  for  he  wished  to  have  a  private  con- 
versation with  me.  "Bother  them  all,"  said  he,  "they  are 
like  the  weathercock,  all  around  the  compass.  The  other 
day  there  was  nothing  like  the  Colonel  De  Oli,  and  I  could 
see  they  treated  yer  honor  shabbily.  Now  the  thing  is 
all  top  down.  The  Conde  is  blue,  Dona  Isabel  is  at  the 
head,  and  yer  honor  is  in  demand.  What  they  want  of 
yer  honor  I  do  not  know,  but  they  spoke  yer  name  as 
soft  as  silk."  When  I  waited  on  the  Conde,  I  found, 
as  Fergus  had  said,  that  the  wind  had  set  in  another 
quarter.  The  Conde  received  me  with  complacency,  al- 
most with  deference.  "You  are  too  generous,"  said  he, 
"and  too  well  versed  in  human  nature  not  to  find  an  ex- 
cuse for  the  roughness  of  my  manner  to  you  the  other 
day.  Consider  only  what  I  have  been,  how  much  I  have 
been  chafed  by  treachery  and  rebellion  on  every  quarter, 
and  I  am  confident  that  all  will  be  forgotten  and  for- 
given. You  kindly  directed  us  to  let  you  know  in  what 


244  Robert  Gordon. 

manner  you  could  aid  us.  Now,  let  me  tell  you.  They 
propose  to  place  us  in  the  hands  of  the  Spanish  chiefs  of 
your  party,  and  if  you  consent  to  resign  our  keeping  we 
are  perfectly  assured  that  we  pass  into  their  hands  only 
to  he  massacred.  For  my  own  personal  interest  I  should 
be  perfectly  content  if  it  were  so.  But  in  these  dangerous 
and  troublesome  times  I  have  earnestly  wished  to  live  a 
little  longer  for  the  sake  of  my  lady  and  daughter.  You 
will  insist  on  retaining  your  command  here  with  a  per- 
tinacity exactly  in  proportion  to  the  value  you  fix  to  our 
lives."  "I  entreat  you/'  added  the  Condesa,  "to  be  per- 
tinacious in  retaining  your  command.  We  are  informed 
that  you  alone  of  the  rebels, — pardon  me  for  the  word,  for 
I  know  of  no  other  in  its  place, — that  you  alone  have  a 
sufficient  influence  to  prevent  the  adoption  of  that  atro- 
cious resolution.  Oh!  these  dreadful  people!  You  can 
have  no  idea  of  the  savageness  of  their  natures.  I  would 
rather  a  thousand  times  to  be  in  the  hands  of  the  Co- 
manches.  If  you  know  these  people  as  we  do,  you  would 
see  how  little  worthy  they  are  of  freedom.  Notwithstanding 
all  they  have  done  to  the  contrary,  we  have  all  along  done 
ample  justice  to  your  character  and  have  felt  perfectly 
tranquil  and  confident  in  your  keeping." 

"Yours  is  indeed  a  proud  destiny,"  said  Isabel.  "At 
the  fandango  you  carry  away  in  your  arms  the  trembling 
ladies  from  the  bacchanalian  riots  and  from  the  dirks  of 
these  innocent  and  amiable  patriots.  Here  you  are  called 
to  the  family  of  the  chief  of  the  government,  and  they 
implore  you  not  to  hand  them  over  to  the  dominion  of  these 
merciful  deliverers  of  an  oppressed  people.  How  much 
things  have  changed  within  a  few  weeks !  How  proud  must 
be  your  feelings  in  having  so  many  people  clinging  to  you 
for  protection !  I  cannot  flatter  myself  that  my  entreaties 
can  add  any  interest  to  such  a  mass  of  supplication.  If 


Rescued  Again.  245 

it  would,  I  have,  with  my  parents,  a  sufficient  horror  at 
the  canaille  of  this  country.  I  would  beg  you,  on  my 
bended  knee,  to  strike  off  our  heads  with  your  sabre  rather 
than  pass  us  over  into  their  hands."  I  answered:  "You 
are  not  aware,  Dona  Isabel,  of  the  cruelty  of  this  bitter 
irony  or  you  would  not  employ  it.  I  can  only  say  that  no 
part  of  my  deportment  to  your  family  has  merited  it.  I 
have  neither  time  nor  inclination  to  take  up  the  apology 
of  my  cause  or  the  people  with  whom  I  am  associated. 
They  are  ignorant  and  barbarous,  I  grant  you.  But  what 
has  made  them  so?  Enlighten  their  ignorance;  break 
their  chains;  remove  the  three-fold  veil  of  darkness  with 
which  your  priesthood  has  hoodwinked  them.  My  heart 
tells  me  that  nothing  can  be  more  amiable  than  the  Span- 
ish character.  To  your  excellency  and  the  family  I  can 
only  say  that  I  fear  you  have  entirely  miscalculated  my 
influence.  But,  that  such  as  it  is,  it  shall  all  be  exerted 
for  your  welfare.  I  hope  and  believe  that  your  alarm  is 
without  cause.  Should  it  be  otherwise  I  will  retain  my 
command  while  I  can.  Whenever  you  shall  be  in  danger 
you  may  calculate  to  see  me  at  hand.  Nothing  will  debar 
me  from  the  duty  of  watching  for  your  safety,  but  what 
at  the  same  time  deprives  me  of  life."  As  I  was  taking 
my  leave  the  Conde  informed  me  that  Don  De  Oli  and 
the  father  confessor  also  begged  to  be  included  under  my 
command  and  subjected  to  the  same  disposal  with  him- 
self. "This,  too,"  I  replied,  "shall  be  granted,  not  for 
their  sakes,  but  for  yours,"  and  I  took  my  leave.  In  the 
council  of  war  convened  the  next  morning,  the  session 
was  stormy  and  party  feelings,  as  usual,  ran  high.  It 
appeared,  however,  that  the  Spaniards  had  managed  to 
overreach  us  and  not  break  with  us.  They  meditated  the 
consummation  of  their  horrid  purpose  by  treachery.  They 
affected  to  regret  that  any  cause  of  jealousy  should  have 


246  Robert  Gordon. 

existed  between  us.  They  proposed  an  arrangement  for 
the  disposal  of  the  chiefs,  which  they  hoped  would  be 
mutually  satisfactory,  and  would  effectually  remove  all 
grounds  of  jealousy  for  the  future.  They  represented  the 
immense  wealth  and  resources  of  the  chiefs  and  they  de- 
veloped intrigues  and  agencies  which,  they  affirmed,  were 
going  on  to  bring  about  a  counter  revolution  and  that,  to 
those  who  knew  anything  of  the  fickleness  of  the  people, 
this  must  be  to  us  ground  for  distrust  and  apprehension. 
They  produced  a  dispatch  implicating  the  honor  of  the 
Conde  as  regarded  the  terms  of  his  parole,  which  forbade 
his  holding  any  intercourse  with  his  government  until  Ke 
should  be  exchanged.  This  letter,  which  we  learned  after, 
was  a  forged  one,  was  addressed  to  Colonel  Arredondo, 
informing  him  of  the  capture  of  San  Antonio  by  the  rebels, 
and  imputing  the  mistakes  by  which  it  was  brought  about 
to  others;  informing  him  that  the  rebels  were  but  a  mis- 
erable, disorderly  rabble,  and  that  if  he  would  come  to 
his  aid  with  his  single  regiment  he  might  recapture  the 
town,  rescue  him  and  destroy  the  rebellion,  root  and 
branch,  at  a  single  blow. 

They  represented  that  there  could  be  no  safety  for  us 
while  men  of  such  powerful  influence  and  so  regardless 
of  their  obligations  were  among  us.  They  informed  us 
that  an  America  vessel  had  arrived  at  Matagorda  from 
New  Orleans,  and  that  they  proposed  to  march  the  prison- 
ers to  that  place  and  there  embark  them  for  that  city, 
and  there  they  would  be  effectually  removed  from  the  power 
of  present  annoyance  and  would  be  safe  under  the  pro- 
tection of  the  United  States  government.  Finally,  they 
averred,  that  the  prisoners  were  desirous  of  this  arrange- 
ment. The  project  seemed  so  feasible,  and  the  mode  of 
disposing  of  the  prisoners  so  little  objectionable,  and  the 
prospect  of  its  restoring  amity  and  a  good  understanding 


Rescued  Again.  247 

among  us  so  delightful,  that  very  little  opposition  was  made 
to  it.  The  vessel,  we  knew,  had  arrived,  as  stated,  and 
there  was  no  doubt  of  their  good  faith.  The  proposition 
was  adopted  almost  unanimously.  The  next  question  to 
he  disposed  of  was  which  should  escort  them,  an  American 
or  a  Spanish  guard.  To  this  the  Spanish  observed  that 
the  Americans,  with  their  usual  cautious  policy,  would 
certainly  refuse  to  admit  prisoners  conducted  thither  by 
armed  Americans,  lest  they  should  stand  committed  with 
the  government.  They  asserted,  too,  that  it  would  assume 
the  appearance  of  our  being  principals  instead  of  being 
auxiliaries,  as  we  professed  to  be.  In  short,  won  by  such 
arguments,  they  easily  brought  over  the  Americans  to 
consent  to  this  arrangement  also.  The  council  dissolved 
in  great  apparent  concord,  and  the  articles  were  carried 
into  immediate  execution.  The  American  guard  which  had 
hitherto  had  the  keeping  of  the  chiefs,  was  relieved  and 
a  Spanish  one  substituted  in  its  place.  I  immediately 
notified  the  Conde,  by  Fergus,  of  this  arrangement,  and 
the  necessity  which  overruled  me  to  consent  to  it;  and 
requested  him  to  let  me  know  in  what  manner  he  could 
find  any  further  use  for  my  services.  I  promised  still 
to  keep  an  unobserved  eye  upon  all  the  movements  of  their 
new  guard. 

Preparations  were  made  for  marching  the  prisoners  for 
Matagorda  in  the  afternoon  of  the  same  day.  Humors 
began  to  be  whispered  among  the  Americans  that  foul 
practices  were  meditated  in  relation  to  these  chiefs.  I 
imparted  my  apprehensions  for  the  safety  of  the  Conde's 
family  to  a  few  of  my  youthful  associates  whom  I  knew 
I  could  trust.  Four  of  them  agreed  to  concur  in  any  plan 
which  I  should  propose  to  follow  the  family  unobserved 
and  aid  them  to  the  uttermost  if  need  required.  It  was  a 
time  of  leisure  and  holiday  in  the  camp  and  hunting  par- 


248  Robert  Gordon. 

ties  were  projected  every  day.  We  made  up  a  party  as 
if  for  hunting  the  buffalo.  We  assumed  the  costume  and 
painted  ourselves  after  the  fashion  of  the  Conehatty  In- 
dians, as  was  the  custom  for  the  Americans  to  do,  to  make 
a  frolic  of  the  affair.  Fergus  drove  before  us  in  a  sumpter 
cart  and  we  followed  on  horseback,  completely  armed  and 
equipped  as  for  the  chase.  The  sub-governor,  Salcedo,  the 
two  Hererras,  and  four  more  of  the  principal  royal  offi- 
cers, were  started  off  on  horseback,  and,  as  there  was  a  ford 
across  the  river,  below  the  town,  they  took  the  direction 
of  the  ford,  while  the  carriage  of  the  Conde,  which  con- 
tained the  usual  members  of  the  family,  followed  by  six 
servants,  all,  of  course,  unarmed,  took  the  direction  of 
a  bridge  over  the  river  which  would  lead  them  two  miles 
from  the  route  which  the  other  party  had  taken.  A  strong 
escort  commanded  by  a  fullblooded  Wachenango  chief  sur- 
rounded the  prisoners  on  horseback  and  enclosed  them  in 
a  hollow  square.  A  lieutenant  and  six  privates  followed 
the  coach  of  the  Conde;  the  pretence  was  that  beyond  the 
bridge  the  two  parties  should  unite.  The  moment  before 
we  started  to  get  in  advance  Fergus  slipped  a  billet  into 
my  hands  containing  these  words:  "We  have  it  from  a 
«ure  source  that  we  are  all  to  be  assassinated.  Save  us/' 
I  recognized  and  carried  to  my  lips  the  beautiful  and 
firmly  formed  handwriting  that  I  knew  so  well,  and  I 
vowed  to  myself  to  save  her  or  perish.  My  associates 
were  young  and  highspirited  men  to  whom  such  an  ad- 
venture wore  the  highest  charm  and  on  whom  I  knew  I 
might  count,  even  to  death.  The  odds  in  number  would 
make  success  only  the  more  glorious  and  the  necessity  of 
making  the  dash  upon  the  escort  more  desperate.  We 
cleared  ourselves  of  the  town  and  placed  ourselves  on 
horseback  in  a  deep  ravine  fifty  paces  from  the  great  road 


Rescued  Again.  249 

io  the  bridge  where  we  knew  the  carriage  and  the  escort 
would  pass. 

We  had  scarcely  reached  our  station  before  the  escort 
came  in  sight  riding  at  the  usual  speed  of  carriage-horses 
on  a  journey.  As  the  carriage  neared  us  we  distinctly 
heard  the  guard  talking  in  voices  loud  and  undisguised 
that  they  were  far  enough  from  the  town  to  execute  their 
purpose  and  that  the  ravine  was  a  convenient  place  in 
which  to  dispose  of  their  bodies.  Just  before  the  carriage 
came  abreast  of  us,  the  lieutenant  ordered  a  halt  and  dis- 
mounted. He  opened  the  door  of  the  carriage  and  ordered 
the  Conde  to  come  out  and  prepare  to  die.  At  the  same 
time  a  private  seized  the  arm  of  the  Condesa  and  dragged 
her  out.  The  servants  approached  the  carriage,  pale  with 
consternation.  Two  or  three  pistols  were  discharged  among 
them  and  they  put  spurs  to  their  horses  and  fled  in  the 
direction  of  the  town.  At  the  same  moment  we  rushed 
from  the  ravine  with  a  shout,  calling  upon  the  servants  to 
stop  and  aid  us.  The  pistols  that  had  not  been  fired  upon 
the  servants  were  discharged  upon  us  and  one  of  our  party 
was  wounded.  I  brought  down  the  lieutenant  with  my 
yager  and  we  made  a  rush  upon  them  with  our  hunting 
spears.  They  were  so  much  surprised  by  this  unexpected 
attack  and  alarmed  at  the  fall  of  their  leader  that  they 
sustained  the  strife  but  a  moment,  leaving  one  of  their 
number  dead  and  another  mortally  wounded  by  a  thrust 
of  the  spear.  The  servants,  seeing  the  turn  of  affairs, 
rallied  and  returned,  and  we  remained  undisputed  mas- 
ters of  the  field.  We  examined  the  issue  of  the  battle. 
One  of  the  servants  was  slightly  wounded,  one  of  my  as- 
sociates severely,  though  not  dangerously,  and  a  ball  had 
passed  through  my  clothes  and  grazed  my  body  just  so 
as  to  draw  blood. 

We  made  ourselves  known  to  the  trembling  family,  for, 


250  Robert  Gordon. 

seeing  us  in  the  costume  of  Indians,  they  were  scarcely  as- 
sured that  they  were  not  delivered  from  one  danger  only 
to  fall  into  another.  "Blessed  Virgin !"  exclaimed  the 
mother  and  daughter  together;  "here  is  our  deliverer 
again/'  and  the  Condesa  embraced  me,  shedding  tears  of 
joy.  We  told  them  that  this  was  no  time  for  exclamations 
or  acknowledgments,  that  if  they  wished  to  avoid  another 
escort  from  San  Antonio,  sent  after  them  on  the  return 
of  the  party  that  we  had  defeated,  they  must  make  all 
diligence  to  fly  in  the  direction  of  Chihuahua.  We  re- 
quested a  place  for  our  wounded  companion  in  the  car- 
riage and  were  compelled  to  leave  the  miserable,  groaning 
assassin  to  his  fate.  The  wounded  servant  was  able  to 
mount  on  horseback,  and  we  were  ready  for  moving.  We 
requested  the  Conde  not  to  lose  a  moment,  but  to  put 
his  horses  to  their  utmost  speed  across  the  prairie  in  the 
direction  of  the  great  road  leading  to  Chihuahua.  The 
coachman,  who  had  fled  and  concealed  himself  in  the 
ravine,  returned,  now  that  the  skirmish  was  over,  and  was 
on  his  box  ready  to  smack  his  whip.  We  proposed  that 
in  their  flight  they  should  leave  our  wounded  companion 
at  a  meson,  which  they  would  pass,  and  that  we  could 
make  arrangements  for  having  him  conveyed  in  a  litter 
to  San  Antonio.  The  family  cried  with  one  voice  that 
it  were  better  for  them  to  return  with  me  to  San  Antonio 
and  take  their  fate  than  set  off  unprotected  and  unarmed 
on  such  a  journey  in  which  they  felt  confident  they  should 
be  overtaken  and  massacred.  "We  implore  you,"  said  the 
Condesa  and  her  daughter,  in  an  agony  of  terror,  "not 
to  leave  us  here,  as  the  night  is  coming  on."  I  consulted 
with  my  associates  a  moment  apart  and  we  unanimously 
agreed  to  accompany  them  that  night  on  their  way.  We 
immediately  proffered  our  services  as  a  guard  for  the 
night,  and  even  the  father  confessor  raised  his  solemn 


Rescued  Again.  251 

voice  in  thankful  acknowledgment.  The  Colonel  was  still 
seated  in  the  carriage,  pale  and  yellow,  grim  and  silent. 
We  put  an  end  to  all  questions,  exclamations  and  debates 
by  assuring  them  that  there  was  not  a  moment  to  be  lost. 
For  the  sake  of  expedition,  we  somewhat  peremptorily 
ordered  the  father  confessor  to  mount  the  horse  of  our 
wounded  associate  in  the"  carriage  and  bade  the  coachman 
drive  away  at  his  swiftest.  We  started  away  furiously,  our 
horses  at  full  gallop  over  the  naked  plains  toward  the 
Chihuahua  road. 

My  reflections,  as  we  sped  away,  may  be  imagined. 
This  was  the  third  time  that  a  wondrous  combination 
of  events  had  connected  me  with  the  preservation  of  Dona 
Isabel.  Destiny  seemed  to  have  taken  the  management 
of  bringing  into  her  own  hands.  Even  during  her  in- 
terview with  me,  after  the  capture  of  the  town,  amidst 
the  seeming  haughtiness  and  irony  of  her  manner,  I  flat- 
tered myself  that  I  saw  sufficient  indications  that  I  had 
my  former  measure  of  interest  in  her  thoughts.  I  was 
very  sure  that  the  present  occurrence  would  not  lessen  it. 
There  could  be  no  mistake  in  the  grateful  countenance 
and  glistening  eyes  with  which  she  had  just  made  her 
acknowledgments  to  me.  My  associates  were  delighted 
with  the  success  of  our  exploit,  and  were  enthusiastic  in 
their  admiration  of  the  expressive  beauty  of  Dona  Isabel. 
They  spoke  in  a  language  which  neither  the  father  con- 
fessor nor  any  of  the  servants  but  Fergus  understood,  and 
amused  themselves  in  imagining  ways  in  which  they  could 
become  acquainted  with  her  and  who  should  relinquish  his 
claims  to  the  other.  When  they  appealed  to  me,  whose 
intimacy  with  her  they  did  not  know,  I  informed  them  that, 
according  to  my  calculations  of  the  latitude  and  longitude 
of  the  female  heart  the  wounded  knight  who  sat  with 
her  in  the  carriage  would  be  most  likely  to  carry  off  her 


252  Robert  Gordon. 

favor,  that  in  fact,  I  felt  a  strong  inclination  for  a  share 
myself,  but,  I  informed  them  that  the  favored  gentleman 
reserved  hy  the  family  for  the  high  distinction  was  the 
Spanish  cavalier  who  was  also  with  her  in  the  carriage. 
The  circumstance,  which  we  all  remarked,  that  he  had  not 
exerted  himself  at  all  in  the  late  rencontre,  or  even  left 
his  seat  in  the  carriage,  called  forth  a  burst  of  indigna- 
tion that  such  a  swarthy,  ill-looking  poltroon  should  carry 
off  such  a  prize.  It  was  merrily  proposed  to  tumble  him 
out  of  the  carriage  and  start  him  with  a  kick  or  two 
toward  San  Antonio  and  that  the  rest  of  us  could  decide 
by  single  combat  whose  claims  should  yield  to  the  others. 
We  all  agreed  that  while  we  retained  our  Indian  costume 
and  our  cheeks  were  so  highly  painted  with  black  and 
vermilion,  we  should  hardly  stand  higher  on  the  score 
of  personal  appearance  than  the  ugly  young  Spaniard. 
This  remark  first  reminded  us  what  a  horrid  and  assassin- 
like  figure  we  made.  For  in  the  excitement  of  the  strife 
we  had  not  been  aware  that  the  young  lady  in  question 
had  not  seen,  in  our  case,  faces  exactly  like  that  ascribed 
to  Adonis.  At  the  first  stream  we  dismounted  and  washed 
away  our  paint  and  threw  off  our  savage  costume,  which 
we  had  put  on  over  our  uniforms,  and  we  came  out  as 
2Eneas  in  his  debut  before  Queen  Dido,  all  blooming 
and  likely  fellows. 

The  Father  Jerome  could  not  have  been  much  more 
delighted  with  the  society  of  a  man  who  had  twice  saved 
his  life  and  had  received  nothing  in  return  but  constant 
enmity  and  ill  offences.  Natural  reflections  of  this  sort, 
occasionally  expressed  by  him  in  Spanish,  the  interjec- 
tions of  shame  and  guilty  consciousness,  came  over  his 
mind  and  audibly  expressed  themselves.  In  a  deep  voice 
he  ejaculated  snatches  of  prayer  and  thanksgiving  to 
his  patron  saints.  He  admitted  to  me  that  it  astonished 


Rescued  Again.  253 

him;  that  Providence  was  calling  him,  once  and  again, 
to  receive  deliverance  from  a  heretic;  that  I  ought  to  con- 
sider the  influence  which  he  was  aware  I  knew  he  had 
made  against  me  in  the  Conde's  family  simply  as  a  holy 
and  conscientious  sacrifice  which  he  made  of  his  feelings 
and  gratitude  to  the  paramount  claims  of  religion,  and 
he  hoped  my  enlargement  of  mind,  as  he  was  pleased  to 
say,  would  find  that  favorable  solution  of  his  conduct. 
It  gratified  my  pride,  however,  that  heretic  as  he  appeared 
to  regard  me,  and  of  course  out  of  the  protection  of  his 
saints,  he  seemed  to  depend  at  least  as  much  upon  my 
aid  as  theirs.  Even  if  I  turned  my  horse  from  one  side 
of  the  road  to  the  other,  he  immediately  turned  his  to 
follow  me.  He  clung  still  closer  to  me  than  eren  Fergus. 
All  the  rest  he  eyed  with  disgust  and  diffidence.  He  in- 
quired anxiously  of  me  when  I  thought  of  leaving  him, 
and  suggested  more  than  once  that  if  I  would  continue 
on  to  Chihuahua  he  could  and  would  secure  for  me  a 
reception  worthy  of  the  preserver  of  the  Conde;  that  I 
could  stay  as  long  as  I  pleased  and  be  at  liberty  to  return 
to  San  Antonio  when  I  wished.  When  he  was  informed 
that  I  calculated  to  leave  them  the  next  morning  and 
still  a  day's  journey  from  their  destination,  he  intimated, 
in  order  to  secure  my  attendance  and  a  safe  conduct 
thither,  which  seemed  to  be  things  connected  in  his  mind, 
that  if  we  would  escort  them  he  would  henceforward 
throw  any  influence  he  might  possess  in  the  family  into 
my  favor. 

Toward  evening,  and  on  the  banks  of  a  little  stream, 
we  were  compelled  by  the  condition  of  our  horses  to  stop 
and  to  give  them  time  to  breathe,  drink  and  feed.  We 
judged  that  we  had  left  San  Antonio  thirty  miles.  The 
family  had  not  yet  recovered  from  the  terrors  of  their 
situation  or  the  apprehension  of  pursuit,  and  still  cast 


254  Robert  Gordon. 

looks  of  fear  over  the  prairie  to  see  if  there  were  no  horse- 
men dashing  over  the  plains  in  pursuit  of  them.     We 
assisted  the  mother  and  the  daughter  from  the  carriage 
and  prepared  sod  seats  for  them  on  the  cool  margin  of  the 
stream.    The  family  were  now  formally  introduced  to  theii 
deliverers,  and  we  had  more  leisure  to  receive  their  grate- 
ful compliments  upon  our  behavior  in  the  recent  affair. 
We  were  instructed  by  what  means  they  became  aware  of 
the  fate  that  was  intended  for  them  and  which  they 
doubted  not  had  actually  befallen  the  other  chiefs.     To  us 
it  was  owing  that  they  were  not  now  inhabitants  of  the 
"unknown  country/'  and  their  bodies  mangled  and  cast 
into  the  ravine,  the  prey  of  vultures.     The  Conde  ex- 
pressed his  thankfulness  and  his  acknowledgments  in  the 
frank  and  laconic  style  of  a  soldier;  the  Condesa  and  her 
daughter  with  that  dignity  and  grace  which  were  peculiar 
to  them.     Colonel  De  Oli,  notwithstanding  all  his  propping 
of  birth,   fortune   and  favor,   evidently   had  a   very   un- 
pleasant remembrance  of  recent  events  and   showed  in 
various  ways  that  he  felt  himself  at  variance  with  the 
whole  party.     His  countenance  exhibited  a  compound  of 
instinctive  self-importance,  malignity,  meanness  and  pres- 
ent degradation  which  rendered  it  a  study  for  a  physiog- 
nomist.    He  offered  his  hand  to  assist  Dona  Isabel  from 
the  carriage.     She  denied  it  to  him  and  gave  it  to  one 
of  my  companions.     She  expressed  compassion  for  our 
wounded  friend  while  her  mother  was  dressing  the  wound, 
and  he  asserted  with  great  gallantry  that  in  the  place  which 
he  had  occupied  and  in  the  sympathy  which  he  had  re- 
ceived he  was  so  happy  that  he  had  hardly  felt  his  wound 
and  that  he  would  cheerfully  purchase  the  same  pleasure 
again  with  ten  such  wounds.     Here  we  were,  patriots  and 
royalists,    all    perfect    friends.     A  cold  repast  was  pre- 
pared from  provisions  laid  in  by  the  Conde's  steward. 


Rescued  Again.  255, 

The  fragrant  parso  was  poured  out,  and  we  remarked 
among  ourselves  how  easy  and  how  rapid  the  mind  passes 
from  the  extremes  of  terror,  grief  and  gloom  to  cheerful- 
ness and  joy.  Our  American  friends,  though  they  could 
speak  neither  French  nor  Spanish,  put  in  all  their  requisite 
courtesies.  The  trace  of  terror  and  tears  was  still  visible 
in  the  countenance  of  the  Condesa,  but  I  had  never  seen 
the  same  delightful  expression  in  the  face  of  the  Dona  Isa- 
bel but  once  before.  I  remarked  that  I  had  never  before 
made  so  delightful  a  supper  in  my  life,  and  the  reply  of  the 
Condesa  was  a  cordial  pressure  of  the  hand  and  a  starting 
tear,  which  intimated  that  she  felt  the  contrast  of  what 
was  with  what  would  have  been  but  for  us.  I  noticed  too, 
that  Dona  Isabel  exerted  herself  to  appear  to  the  greatest 
advantage  before  these,  my  young  friends.  Vanity  whis- 
pered that  she  wished  that  they  would  report  favorably  of 
her  to  me,  and  in  fact  I  saw  with  great  satisfaction  that 
her  impression  upon  them  was  as  it  had  been  originally 
on  me.  They  manifested  the  romantic  and  extravagant 
admiration  natural  to  their  years,  and  were  delighted  be- 
yond measure.  Even  the  Conde  seemed  to  relax  some- 
thing from  his  settled  gloom  as  he  looked  upon  their  fair, 
fresh  faces,  glowing  with  health,  benevolence  and  hope. 
He  uttered  in  broken  English  a  wish  that  such  gallant 
young  men  belonged  to  his  cause. 

We  tarried  not  a  moment  beyond  what  was  necessary 
for  the  repose  of  our  horses,  although  I  told  them  I  hated 
to  disturb  so  delightful  a  supper.  A  look  was  passed  be- 
tween the  Conde  and  his  lady,  and  it  was  intimated  to 
Don  De  Oli  that  he  had  better  relieve  me  by  taking  my 
place  on  horseback  and  give  me  his  seat  in  the  carriage. 
A  grim  look  intimated  his  feelings  on  the  subject,  but 
he  had  no  alternative.  The  arrangement  was  so  much 
the  more  pleasant  to  me,  as  I  was  really  fatigued,  and  it 


256  Robert  Gordon. 

was  a  pleasure  wholly  unexpected.  Behold  me  then,  just 
as  the  ruddy  tinge  of  the  setting  sun  was  fading  from 
the  plain,  seated  quietly  on  the  same  seat  with  Dona  Isabel 
and,  in  the  indistinct  light  which  veiled  the  ex- 
pression of  inward  feelings  from  ordinary  inspection  and 
yet  allowed  the  heart,  through  the  eyes,  to  say  unutterable 
things.  The  Conde  relapsed  into  his  wonted  silence,  ap- 
parently giving  up  his  mind  to  gloomy  agitation.  His 
lady  sympathized  in  his  silence.  My  wounded  companion 
spoke  nothing  but  English,  and  Isabel,  though  she  now  and 
then  made  kind  inquiries  of  him  if  his  wound  was  painful, 
in  that  language,  did  not  avail  herself  of  it  for  any 
other  purpose.  Short  sentences  which  said  much  in  few 
words,  passed  between  her  and  me,  in  Spanish.  It  is 
wholly  unnecessary  to  give  any  of  the  details  of  that  con- 
versation. We  were  abundantly  satisfied,  and  it  was  of 
that  sort  which  neither  bears  translating  nor  telling  for 
the  benefit  of  others.  The  evening  closed  over  us  in  pro- 
found darkness,  and  it  was  well  for  us  that  our  road  lay 
over  a  vast  plain  so  smooth  and  unbroken  that  the  coach- 
man drove  on  with  the  same  confidence  by  night  as  by  day. 
Had  the  road  even  been  difficult,  such  was  our  anxiety 
for  our  charge,  that  we  should  have  urged  the  hastening 
on  by  night  as  the  lesser  of  two  dangers.  The  Con- 
desa  fixed  herself  in  a  reclining  posture  on  the  cushion, 
intending  if  possible  to  sleep.  She  advised  her  daughter 
to  do  the  same.  The  difficulty  for  the  latter  was  to  find 
a  place  on  which  to  recline.  The  panels  of  the  coach 
were  hard  and  the  position  subjected  the  person  to  con- 
tinued jostling.  My  shoulder  was  somewhat  softer  and 
steadier  and  the  thick  epaulette  not  unlike  a  pillow.  We 
had  been  from  our  first  acquaintance  pitifully  trammelled 
in  our  intercourse.  I  leave  you  to  imagine  how  we 
availed  ourselves  of  this  opportunity.  Those  who  were 


Rescued  Again.  257 

on  horseback  were  weary  beyond  conversation.  All 
within  the  carriage  slept,  or  seemed  to  sleep.  The  fatigued 
horses  gradually  declined  to  the  pace  of  a  snail.  Isabel, 
too,  was  still  and  seemed  to  sleep  for  half  an  hour.  She 
then  started  and  raised  her  head.  I  asked  her  in  a  whis- 
per if  she  had  alarming  dreams.  And  she  answered,  by 
asking  in  turn  if  I  had  a  fever,  for  the  palpitations  of 
my  heart  were  so  quick  and  audible  as  to  arouse  her  from 
her  drowsiness.  I  have  no  doubt  that  her  medical  science 
enabled  her  to  discriminate  these  palpitations  from  those 
of  incipient  fever  or  the  throbbings  of  patriotism. 

Joy  has  its  turn  as  well  as  sorrow.  I  believe  poets  have 
represented  night  as  slow  and  limping  in  her  progress. 
However  that  may  be,  the  hours  of  this  night,  the  most 
charming  in  the  year,  flew.  I  looked  with  terror  at  my 
watch,  as  it  began  to  be  light  enough  to  discern  the  posi- 
tion of  the  hands,  to  see  if  indeed  it  were  morning.  We 
admitted  that  we  had  neither  of  us  slept  a  moment.  We 
had  fairly  talked  the  night  through  as  we  ascertained 
that  the  drudging  sun  had  not  forgotten  his  daily  busi- 
ness. As  if  to  atone  in  some  measure  for  intruding  upon 
us  he  made  a  glorious  rise,  rolling  an  atmosphere  of  mist 
from  his  path  and  presenting  us  a  most  impressive  view 
of  the  grand  summits  of  the  mountains  before  us,  and  at 
the  distance  of  half  a  league  the  village  on  the  banks  of 
the  river,  with  its  hundred  smokes  beginning  to  undulate 
and  find  their  zigzag  course  aloft.  It  was  fortified,  and 
belonged  to  the  royalists,  and  the  Conde  admitted  that 
in  that  place  he  should  feel  himself  safe.  He  begged  us 
to  enter  the  place  with  him,  for  that,  though  we  were 
nominally  patriots,  such  intrepid  and  generous  young 
men,  as  he  was  pleased  to  call  us,  could  have  nothing  in 
common  with  the  assassins  from  whom  we  had  rescued 
them  and  to  whom  circumstances  had  attached  us.  He  as- 


258  Robert  Gordon. 

sured  us  of  the  kind  reception  that  he  could  procure  for 
us,  and  promised  to  send  us  back  with  a  royal  detach- 
ment and  flag  of  truce  to  San  Antonio.  We  thanked  him, 
and  declined  entering  the  town.  We  pointed  out  that  it 
was  better  for  us,  as  well  as  him,  that  there  should  be  no 
such  palpable  demonstrations  of  our  understanding  one 
another  as  such  circumstance  would  show.  This  argu- 
ment was  conclusive  with  him,  but  not  so  with  his  lady 
and  daughter.  The  countenance  of  the  latter  expressed 
the  very  sentiment  of  the  patriarch  when  he  wrestled  and 
would  not  let  the  venerable  istranger  go.  The  carriage 
stopped  at  my  request.  I  requested  Don  De  Oli  to  come 
up  with  my  horse.  The  Condesa  grasped  my  hand  and 
for  a  moment  was  unable  to  speak  from  emotion.  "It 
cannot  be,"  said  she,  "dear  young  man,  that  we  part  here 
for  the  last  time.  I  have  always  said  of  you  what  this 
last  exploit  must  have  proved  to  the  conviction  of  in- 
credulity itself.  Our  stars  have  placed  us  in  the  utmost 
peril  again  and  again  only  to  prove  your  intrepidity  and 
forgetfulness  of  self.  The  same  providence  that  has  thus 
mysteriously  brought  you  to  our  aid  will  bring  us,  in  its 
own  way,  together  again  and  under  happier  auspices.  At 
least,  I  will  hope  it.  I  will  never  forget  you."  The  Conde 
gave  me  his  hand,  and  for  the  first  time  he  evinced  the 
impulse  of  kindly  and  grateful  feelings.  "Would  to 
God!"  said  he,  "noble  young  man,  that  you  belonged  to 
our  king  and  our  church !  But  that  is  impossible.  Adios. 
May  I  some  time  have  a  chance  to  show  you  that  I  remem- 
ber what  you  have  done."  The  priest  grasped  my  hand 
and  uttered  Adios,  in  his  peculiar  deep  tone  of  voice. 
Thanks  were  offered  to  my  associates  with  the  greatest 
energy.  The  wounded  young  man  had  a  satisfactory  share 
of  sympathy  and  gratitude.  He  mounted  his  horse  with 


Rescued  Again.  259 

agility  and  expressed  himself  quite  well,  and  as  we  turned 
our  horses'  heads,  I  heard  something  from  Don  De  Oli, 
muttered  in  a  voice  scarcely  audible.  It  was  between  a 
curse  and  a  parting  salutation,  and  we  galloped  away. 


260  Robert  Gordon. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

THE  TIDE  TURNED. 

WE  had  a  safe  return  to  San  Antonio.  Extreme  fatigue, 
want  of  sleep  and  encountering  the  jests  of  my  companions, 
who  had  contrived  to  make  out  how  things  stood  between 
Dona  Isabel  and  me,  were  the  only  unpleasant  circum- 
stances of  our  journey.  Every  lover  has  felt  how  harass- 
ing, under  such  circumstances,  is  the  repetition  of  such 
jests  until  they  become  stale.  As  soon  as  we  entered  the 
town  we  had  plenty  of  matter  for  discussion  of  a  more 
serious  nature.  We  had  the  most  incontestable  evidence 
that  the  chiefs  of  our  party  could  practice  the  basest 
treachery  and  the  most  cold  blooded  assassination.  It  is 
true  we  acquitted  Morelos  of  any  participation  in  this 
abominable  plan.  But  it  was  not  to  be  disguised  that 
he  was  carried  along  by  the  current  of  opinion  and  com- 
pelled to  give  the  sanction  of  his  name  to  acts  which  ought 
to  have  been  equally  revolting  to  his  understanding  and 
his  heart.  We  had  discovered,  even  in  him,  a  recent  lean- 
ing toward  counsels,  to  retaliate  on  the  royalist  chiefs  the 
cruelties  which  they  had  practiced  in  the  case  of  Hidalgo 
and  the  other  patriot  chiefs  who  had  fallen  into  their  hands. 
We  regretted  bitterly  to  remember  that  in  all  revolutions, 
in  the  nature  of  things,  mingle  much  of  this  horrible  spirit 
of  revenge,  blood  and  murder.  We  vindicated  our  own 


The  Tide  Turned.  261 

self-respect  on  finding  ourselves  associated  in  the  same 
cause  with  men  capable  of  such  fiend-like  projects  by 
charging  them  upon  the  character  of  human  nature  and 
the  natural  reaction  of  things  when  men  who  have  been 
reared  in  ignorance,  oppression  and  cruelty  gained  the 
ascendancy  and  become  treacherous  and  bloody  tyrants  in 
their  turn.  We  had  occasion  to  take  other  than  an  abstract 
view  upon  this  subject.  We  were  not  only  associated  with 
men  capable  of  weaving  such  plans  into  their  cause,  but 
we  had  counteracted  a  most  important  part  of  their  plan. 
We  had  rescued  from  their  bloody  hands  the  chief  of  the 
royalists  and  his  family  and  had  slain  an  officer  of  their 
party  in  affecting  the  rescue.  It  is  true  we  were  disguised 
as  savages.  But  we  had  little  reason  to  suppose  that  these 
adroit  and  practiced  villains  would  not  understand  the 
true  state  of  the  case.  Inquiry  would  be  made  and  we 
should  be  found  to  have  been  absent.  Then  again,  we 
concluded,  that  if  they  had  succeeded  in  the  assassination 
of  the  other  chiefs,  as  we  had  no  doubt  they  had,  they 
would  be  sufficiently  occupied  in  defending  themselves 
against  the  sensation  and  inquiry  it  must  naturally  create, 
to  guarantee  us  from  suffering  a  very  severe  scrutiny  for 
what  we  had  done.  It  was  my  opinion  that  such  a  wanton 
and  unnecessary  outrage  would  not  have  been  perpetrated 
against  the  known  feelings  and  most  pointed  remonstrance 
of  the  Americans  until  they  had  settled  the  principle  to  set 
us  at  defiance.  It  was  my  judgment  on  our  return  to 
camp,  instead  of  allowing  them  to  inquire  into  our  con- 
duct, the  Americans  ought  to  unite  to  a  man  and,  with 
arms  in  their  hands,  insist  upon  instituting  an  inquiry 
into  the  conduct  of  our  chiefs  in  this  affair.  They  had 
practiced  upon  us  the  grossest  deception,  and  we  had  a 
right  to  inquire  why  they  had  not  fulfilled  their  engage- 
ment of  honor  with  us  to  escort  the  royalists  safely  to 


262  Robert  Gordon. 

Matagorda,  as  they  promised  us  they  would.  I  insisted 
that  if  we  allowed  this  most  detestable  act  to  pass  without 
remonstrance  or  investigation,  history  would  justly  repre- 
sent us  as  having  aided  and  abetted  the  act.  With  myself, 
I  determined  that  if  this  outrage  was  generally  approved 
by  the  Spaniards,  and  even  winked  at  by  the  Americans, 
I  would  wash  my  hands  of  any  further  participation  in 
the  cause. 

When  we  arrived  in  camp  we  found  everything  in  greater 
uproar  than  ever.  Our  worst  suspicions  were  confirmed. 
The  infamous  villains  who  had  volunteered  as  the  agents 
of  the  patriot  chiefs  on  purpose  to  massacre  the  royal 
commanders  had  perpetrated  their  purpose  with  every  trait 
of  cold-blooded  cruelty.  They  shot  Governor  Salcedo,  who 
resisted  them.  The  six  other  chiefs  they  bound  and  cut 
their  throats  and  threw  their  bodies  into  the  ravine.  They 
had  the  unblushing  effrontery  to  return  to  the  camp, 
clothed  in  the  dress  and  wearing  the  watches,  ornaments 
and  insignia  of  these  unfortunate  but  naturally  excellent 
men,  whose  only  crime  was  that  they  had  been  born  and 
bred  the  adherents  of  the  Spanish  despotism.  Our  con- 
jectures that  we  should  be  recognized  as  the  authors  of 
the  escape  of  the  Conde  were  changed  to  conviction.  The 
Spaniards,  with  lowering  countenances,  pronounced  the 
name  of  the  lieutenant  whom  we  had  killed,  and  pointed 
us  out  as  we  passed  through  their  camp,  applying  to  us 
the  epithet,  Americanos  diablos.  The  Americans,  in  their 
quarters,  were  conversing  together  in  groups,  with  the 
deepest  apprehension  and  alarm  on  their  countenances 
and  the  most  rancorous  mutual  suspicions  existed  between 
the  partisans  of  the  two  nations. 

Many  of  the  Americans,  in  the  utmost  disgust  and 
"horror,  left  the  camp  and  returned  to  their  own  country, 
quite  relieved  in  their  minds  as  to  their  sympathy  with 


The  Tide  Turned.  263 

the  oppressed  Spaniards.  The  ease  with  which  we  had 
beaten  the  royalists  in  every  fair  encounter,  fostered  the 
hopes  of  others  that  they  should  yet  come  at  their  rever- 
sion in  the  mines.  Others  flattered  themselves  that  better 
counsels  would  prevail,  and  that  these  horrid  deeds  were 
only  the  natural  effervescence  of  slavery,  in  passing  into 
a  state  of  anarchy  and  licentiousness.  Morelos  and  Ber- 
nardo were  each  struggling  for  the  ascendancy.  De  Von- 
pelt,  shocked  beyond  measure  by  the  late  transaction,  re- 
signed his  command  as  soon  as  the  news  arived  in  camp, 
and  shut  himself  up  with  his  daughters.  No  words  could 
paint  their  disgust  and  terror  when  I  returned  to  them. 
Fergus  seized  me  by  one  arm  and  they  by  the  other,  beg- 
ging me  for  the  love  of  God  to  fly  from  this  horrid  coun- 
try forever  and  follow  the  footsteps  of  those  whose  faces 
were  already  set  toward  the  United  States.  But  for  one 
circumstance  I  should  have  consented  at  once.  One  of 
the  strongest  impulses  of  our  nature  still  detained  me  here 
and  gave  me  patience  to  watch  the  signs  of  the  times 
and  wait  the  issue  of  events.  With  this  cherished  family 
and  one  or  two  like-minded  friends,  among  them  was  my; 
classmate,  I  spent  the  evenings  and  the  days  almost  con- 
fined to  the  house.  We  made  a  compact  that  if  affairs 
continued  to  have  the  same  unpromising  aspect  after  ten 
days  we  would  withdraw  and  make  our  way  as  fast  as 
possible  to  the  United  States,  and  De  Vonpelt  consented  to 
wait  patiently  till  the  end  of  that  time. 

Eight  of  them  had  passed  with  us  in  the  most  profound 
retirement,  when  a  crisis  occurred  which  once  more  united 
us  all  in  a  common  feeling  of  danger.  The  late  massacre 
had  not  only  disgusted  and  disheartened  the  Americans 
and  palsied  the  noble  patriot  arm  among  the  Mexicans, 
but  it  operated  in  rousing  the  slumbering  spirit  of  the 
royalists  to  the  utmost  pitch,  not  only  of  exasperation 


264  Robert  Gordon. 

and  fury,  but  of  daring  and  courage.  They  were  TfeSer- 
mined  that  neutral  and  halfway  measures  should  be  re- 
nounced. The  patriots  had  set  the  example  of  extermina- 
tion, to  which  a  very  considerable  party  of  the  royalists 
had  been  inclined.  At  the  head  of  that  party  was  Colonel 
Arredondo,  a  warrior  of  great  experience,  trained  in  Euro- 
pean contests  and  uniting  strong  sense,  great  cunning  and 
calm,  calculating  selfishness  to  the  discipline,  intrepidity 
and  unshrinking  character  of  a  soldier,  inured  to  the  scenes 
of  violence  and  blood.  Age,  circumstances  and  perhaps 
natural  character  had  rendered  the  Conde  timid  and  vas- 
cillating  in  his  plans.  Sometimes  he  inclined  to  strong, 
and  sometimes  to  moderate  measures.  Sometimes  he 
was  inclined  to  be  merciful,  and  sometimes  cruel;  amd 
these  feelings  rose  or  fell  with  the  elevation  or  depression 
of  his  spirits,  or  with  the  preponderancy  or  inefficacy  of  the 
counsels  of  Don  De  Oli,  or  the  father  confessor.  He 
sometimes  wilfully  acted  out  his  own  conceptions,  and 
at  other  times  gave  himself  up  entirely  to  the  leading  of 
these  counsellors.  Under  the  excitement  created  by  the  late 
deed  of  horror,  the  party  of  Colonel  Arredondo  came  into 
complete  ascendancy.  The  Conde's  name  was  still  affixed 
to  acts,  but  the  real  and  efficient  command  was  in  him. 
Strong  measures  were  immediately  taken.  The  interior 
of  Mexico  was  in  the  same  kind  of  calm  with  a  volcano 
after  a  terrible  recent  eruption.  Koyal  troops  were  drawn 
from  all  the  cities  in  the  interior  province's.  The  regiment 
of  Cadiz  was  united  with  that  of  Vera  Cruz.  No  officers 
were  commissioned  for  the  king  among  the  provincials 
but  who  had  given  a  pledge  to  their  future  course  by  acts 
of  violence  and  outrage  against  the  patriots. 

In  ten  days  from  the  late  massacre  we  heard  that  a  large 
body  of  royal  troops  were  rapidly  advancing  upon  San 
Antonio  and  had  already  passed  the  Bio  Grande.  The 


The  Tide  Turned.  265 

patriot  chiefs  were  panic-stricken  with  this  intelligence. 
So  long  as  the  Conde  was  in  command  they  felt  they 
could  play  a  double  game  between  us  and  the  royalists. 
They  felt  a  confidence  that  if  any  treacherous  policy  called 
upon  them  to  sacrifice  us  they  could  at  any  time  make 
their  peace  with  him  by  going  over  to  his  standard.  Not  so 
with  Colonel  Arredondo;  with  him  they  could  hope  but 
for  one  of  two  alternatives — the  spear  or  the  rope.  They 
came  to  us,  one  after  another,  exculpating  themselves 
from  participation  in  the  late  massacre.  They  proposed 
a  court  of  investigation  and  professed  themselves  willing 
to  subject  to  military  execution  the  persons  who  should  be 
found  to  have  originated  the  project.  They  implored  us  to 
resume  our  command,  offering  to  give  that  one  of  our  num- 
ber whom  we  should  select  supreme  command.  We  again 
held  a  conclave,  and  we  disagreed  among  ourselves.  But 
our  young  men  possessed  an  eagerness  to  make  themselves 
known  in  exploit  and  action  and  an  adventurous  spirit  of 
enterprise  that  courted  such  an  occasion  for  display  and 
nerved  them  to  perseverance.  I  was  undecided  what  course 
to  pursue.  The  good  nature  of  De  Vonpelt,  won  by  the 
seeming  repentance  of  the  patriot  chiefs  and  by  seeing  the 
manifestation  of  this  spirit  of  reconciliation,  inclined  him 
to  resume  his  command.  I  followed  his  example.  De  Von- 
pelt, my  classmate,  who  was  appointed  aide  to  Bernardo, 
myself  and  the  Americans  generally,  were  received  by  the 
Spaniards  with  loud  acclamations.  Bernardo  had  ma- 
neuvered to  obtain  the  supreme  command,  and  Moreles 
had  left  the  army  in  disgust,  retiring  to  the  City  of  Mexico 
in  disguise. 

Our  plans  were  soon  made.  We  moved  out  of  town, 
where  there  were  such  temptations  to  riot  and  relaxation 
of  all  discipline  as  rendered  it  a  place  unfit  for  a  camp  in 
such  an  emergency  as  ours.  We  took  post  at  a  considerable 


266  Robert  Gordon. 

distance  from  town,  in  the  large  stone  buildings  belonging 
to  the  Mission.  They  afforded  us  an  admirable  military 
position.  They  would  yield  only  to  a  regular  siege  and 
were  sufficiently  strong  to  resist  anything  except  heavy 
battering  cannon,  which  the  foe  did  not  have.  Wood  and 
water  in  abundance  were  near,  and  it  was  a  fine  position 
to  command  forage  and  provisions.  I  gave  my  opinion 
when  it  was  called  for,  and  it  was  decidedly  to  intrench 
our  camp  here  and  wait  for  the  enemy.  But  other  coun- 
sels prevailed.  We  had  word  that  Arredondo  was  coming 
upon  us.  The  Americans  exulted  in  this  intelligence,  for 
they  flattered  themselves  that  they  should  now  see  some 
real  fighting.  All  former  victories  had  been  won,  as  they 
said,  with  too  much  ease.  We  had  come  to  despise  our 
enemy,  and  the  confidence  consequent  upon  this  contempt 
proved  our  ruin. 

Eight  miles  in  advance  of  the  Mission  there  is  a  con- 
siderable stream,  which  in  winter  runs  with  a  full  current 
up  to  the  banks  and  in  summer  becomes  almost  a  dry 
branch.  It  was  now  midsummer,  and  the  weather  was  ex- 
cessively hot.  We  crossed  this  branch  which,  contrary  to 
the  ordinary  course  of  things  in  the  summer,  afforded  an 
abundance  of  pure  water.  The  banks  were,  as  is  common 
to  such  streams,  high,  rugged  and  utterly  impassable  for 
cavalry,  except  by  the  ford.  Immediately  beyond  this 
stream  the  road  forks,  one  branch  leading  to  La  Bahia  and 
the  coast  and  the  other  to  the  City  of  Mexico.  There  was 
a  green  plot  on  the  opposite  bank,  and  it  was  completely 
sheltered  from  inspection  by  a  precipitous  and  wooded  hill. 
Here  we  took  post,  and  were  determined  to  await  the  foe, 
whom  we  knew  to  be  near.  We  were  sure  that  we  had 
intercepted  all  communication  of  intelligence  and  that  the 
royal  troops  would  begin  to  descend  the  hill  in  full  reach 
of  our  muskets  before  they  would  discover  us.  We  calcu- 


The  Tide  Turned.  267 

lated  to  attack  them  encumbered,  as  their  troops  always  are, 
by  a  vast  quantity  of  baggage,  and  in  the  confusion  of  such 
an  unexpected  attack  put  them  to  rout  and  flight.  But 
their  experienced  commander  was  not  to  be  caught  so.  He 
had  his  plans,  too,  and,  to  our  ruin,  it  proved  to  be  the  bet- 
ter. Our  scouts  reported  his  troops  to  be  at  two 
miles'  distance,  then  at  one,  and,  in  fact,  we  could 
now  clearly  hear  the  blowing  of  their  bugles  and  the 
rolling  of  their  drums.  Soon  after  we  saw  an  officer 
on  horseback,  in  a  splendid  uniform,  come  dashing  up 
to  the  summit  of  the  hill,  not  more  than  fifty  yards 
from  us.  He  rose  up  in  his  stirrups  and  took  a 
glance  at  our  camp.  In  the  twinkling  of  an  eye  fifty 
rifles  were  discharged  at  him,  but  he  turned  his  horse  and 
fled  so  swiftly  that  he  escaped  and  carried  intelligence  of 
our  presence.  Our  impetuosity  was  the  cause  of  our  first 
mistake  in  inducing  us  to  leave  our  fine  position  by  shade 
and  water  on  such  a  burning  hot  summer's  morning.  But 
an  impulse  of  impetuosity  operated  upon  us.  Horses  and 
foot  mounted  the  hill.  We  met  a  considerable  force,  chiefly 
mounted  provincials,  and  in  less  than  fifteen  minutes 
routed  them.  We  commenced  a  hot  pursuit,  in  which  we 
were  fatigued,  inflamed  with  heat  and  suffering  from  thirst 
at  the  same  time. 

In  about  two  miles  from  the  first  attack  we  met  a  second 
and  larger  detachment,  which  the  inexperienced  Spaniards 
felt  sure  was  the  main  army.  The  Americans  compre- 
hended in  a  moment  that  both  these  attacks  were  feints,  in- 
tended only  to  draw  us  from  wood  and  water  to  fatigue 
and  harass  us  down  and  render  us  an  easy  conquest  for 
their  fresh  troops.  Nevertheless  we  rushed  upon  the  second 
detachment,  and  they  resisted  us  for  nearly  half  an  hour. 
Considerable  blood  was  shed,  and  the  resistance  seemed  to 
be  obstinate.  They  in  their  turn  retreated.  Mere  fatigue 


268  Robert  Gordon. 

and  exposure  to  the  heat  compelled  a  short  halt  and  arrested 
our  pursuit.  We  were  ready  to  expire  for  want  of  shade 
and  water,  and  the  Americans  wished  to  wait  for  the  en- 
emy here.  My  classmate,  aide  of  General  Bernardo,  was 
sent  to  the  provincial  troops  on  the  left,  intimating  the 
command  of  Bernardo,  that  we  should  fall  back  to  our 
morning  position  and  there  await  the  main  body  of  the 
enemy,  which  had  been  found  to  be  entrenched  four  miles 
in  advance  of  us.  This  command  was  the  wish  of  the 
Americans.  But  the  provincial  commander,  equally  igno- 
rant, obstinate  and  impetuous,  sent  word  back  to  Bernardo 
that  the  Americans  might  retreat  if  they  chose,  but  the 
Spaniards  were  not  used  to  leaving  their  business  half  done, 
and  that  they  would  advance  upon  the  royalists,  either  to 
beat  them  or  join  their  standard,  just  as  the  Americans 
might  chose.  We  saw  in  a  moment  the  nature  of  our  condi- 
tion. If  we  undertook  to  retreat  to  our  camp  the  greater 
part  of  the  provincials  would  immediately  desert  to  the 
enemy,  and,  in  all  probability,  we  should  be  attacked  by 
their  united  force.  We  were  well  informed  that  the  road 
between  us  and  Arredondo  was  a  burning  sand,  in  which 
even  the  men  would  sink  to  their  ankles.  We  had  a  small 
but  fine  battery  of  brass  artillery.  We  were  aware  that 
the  carriages  would  sink  into  the  sand.  We  were  suffocat- 
ing with  heat,  and,  under  all  these  disadvantages,  we 
might  possibly  beat  the  enemy,  and  on  the  whole  it  seemed 
the  lesser  danger  to  attempt  to  do  it.  We  made  another  un- 
availing effort  to  bring  the  provincial  commander  to  listen 
to  reason,  and  then  marched  to  the  attack.  Words  would 
be  wanting  to  describe  the  fatigue  of  this  march.  One 
horse  after  another  gave  out  and  one  cannon  after  another 
was  left  bedded  in  the  sand.  Even  the  horses  we  rode 
could  hardly  wade  along.  A  little  past  the  middle  of  the 
afternoon  we  descended  a  small  eminence  and  saw  fifty 


The  Tide  Turned.  269 

paces  in  advance  of  us  a  wide  barricade  of  green  felled 
trees.  We  had  time  to  observe  no  more,  and  had  scarcely 
caught  a  glimpse  before  we  were  saluted  by  their  artillery, 
concealed  behind  the  trees,  and  a  murderous  discharge  of 
musketry  by  platoons.  Our  ranks  were  literally  mowed 
down,  and  I  was  for  a  moment  left  alone.  The  Spaniards 
recoiled  from  the  first  fire,  but  the  Americans  rushed  upon 
the  foe  and  formed  on  their  right.  We  brought  up  the  only 
two  field  pieces  that  had  not  been  left  in  the  sand  and  sus- 
tained the  fight  on  somewhat  more  equal  terms.  But  we 
were  unable  to  make  any  impression  upon  the  royal  troops 
behind  their  breastworks.  They  continued  to  pour  their 
fire  upon  us  with  so  much  precision  that  it  seemed  a  single 
discharge,  and  they  swept  away  our  advance  like  chaff  be- 
fore the  wind.  With  such  terrible  odds  against  us  we  kept 
up  the  fight  for  more  than  two  hours,  and  had  once  com- 
pletely silenced  the  fire  of  their  battery.  In  fact,  they 
commenced  a  retreat,  and  a  company  of  the  royal  provin- 
cials did  retreat  as  fast  as  possible  nearly  to  the  Kio 
Grande  and  there  reported  that  the  royalists  were  com- 
pletely routed.  At  the  same  moment  that  the  royalists 
were  retreating  from  us,  we,  worn  down  with  fatigue,  sink- 
ing with  heat  and  thirst,  and  more  than  half  of  our  number 
slain,  commenced  a  retreat,  too,  and  this  was  the  second 
time  that  I  had  seen  two  armies  retreating  from  each 
other.  At  this  critical  moment,  when  a  single  charge  upon 
them  would  have  gained  us  the  victory,  our  provincial 
commander  wheeled  with  his  horse  and  joined  the  enemy. 
The  battle  was  decided  in  a  moment.  The  royalists  faced 
about.  Their  cavalry  wheeled  upon  our  wings  and  we  were 
in  danger  of  being  entirely  surrounded.  At  once  every- 
thing was  confusion.  The  weary,  wounded  and  foot  sol- 
diers were  speared  on  the  spot  or  trampled  under  foot  of 
the  horses.  De  Vonpelt  and  myself  saved  ourselves  by  the 


270  Robert  Gordon. 

fleetness  of  our  horses.  My  classmate  was  afflicted  with 
fever  and  ague  when  he  came  into  the  battle.  His  horse 
had  been  tired  down;  he  had  fastened  him  to  a  tree  and 
had  fought  on  foot.  On  his  retreat  he  found  that  his  horse 
had  broken  away.  The  enemy  was  advancing,  and  he  was 
too  much  exhausted  to  fly  except  on  horseback.  He  would 
have  been  speared  but  for  the  assistance  of  a  compassion- 
ate Spaniard.  He  spoke  Spanish  with  great  fluency  and 
begged  the  Spaniard  to  catch  his  horse  for  him.  The  Span- 
iard advanced,  uncoiled  the  rope  always  hung  about  hia 
horse's  neck,  cast  the  noose,  caught  his  horse  and  assisted 
him  to  mount.  I  saw  him  fleeing,  and  I  made  the  best  of 
my  way,  with  De  Vonpelt  and  Fergus  by  my  side.  We 
should  have  been  glad  of  the  wings  of  the  wind,  for  we  had 
the  royalists  in  sight  advancing  upon  us.  It  was  a 
sickening  sight  to  see  so  many  of  our  poor  fellows  fall 
from  their  horses,  literally  unable  to  sit  in  the  saddle  any 
longer.  De  Vonpelt  was  corpulent  and  old.  He  was 
obliged  to  stop  from  fatigue.  The  brave  and  honest  man 
requested  me  with  tears  in  his  eyes  to  fly.  "Be  you  a 
father,"  said  he,  "und  brother,  und  all  to  my  tear  girls,  und 
tell  them  where  I  saw  the  end  of  the  tamned  liperties." 
He  had  scarcely  given  me  this  charge  before  we  were  as- 
sailed by  three  or  four  provincials.  This  occurrence  called 
back  his  courage.  The  faithful  Fergus,  who  had  fled  in 
advance,  wheeled  and  came  back  to  our  aid.  Fergus 
fought  like  a  giant,  and  we  drove  them  back  on  the  main  ' 
body  of  the  army,  killing  one  of  their  number;  but  not 
until  De  Vonpelt  had  been  severely  wounded  by  a  pistol 
shot.  This  wound  and  the  bleeding  seemed  to  furnish 
him  with  new  vigor.  We  fled  again  and  met  with  no  more 
annoyance  until  we  reached  San  Antonio. 

Exaggerated  reports  of  our  defeat  and  ruin  had  preceded 
ns,  with  the  natural  addition  that  De  Vonpelt  was  mortally 


The  Tide  Turned.  271 

wounded  and  I  was  killed.  I  leave  you  to  imagine  the 
scene  of  our  reception  by  his  daughters.  The  reality,  sad 
as  it  was,  was  so  much 'more  tolerable  than  their  expecta- 
tion, that  they  were  all  well  prepared  to  receive  their 
wounded  father,  and  when  I  assured  them  that  there  was 
no  doubt  but  that  he  would  do  well  and  that  all  they  had 
to  do  was  to  prepare  to  fly,  the  idea  of  escaping  from  the 
country  was  so  pleasant  to  them  that  they  instinctively 
set  themselves  to  preparing  for  flight.  A  counter  revolu- 
tion had  commenced  in  the  city  with  the  first  news  of  de- 
feat, and  there  was  almost  as  much  danger  in  delay  from  the 
inhabitants  as  from  the  enemy.  We  were  not  more  than 
an  hour  in  advance  of  them.  All  my  American  compatriots 
that  were  neither  wounded,  sick  nor  exhausted,  escaped, 
and  among  them,  as  I  afterward  learned  with  satisfaction, 
my  classmate,  who  arrived  safely  in  Louisiana,  sick  of  a 
fever  and  destitute  of  everything,  in  a  most  wretched 
plight,  but  content  and  happy  to  have  escaped  the  spear. 
I  obtained  by  dint  of  money,  friendship  and  entreaties — 
for  we  were  obliged  to  put  every  engine  in  operation — 
horses  and  wagon.  They  were  harnessed  and  a  mattress 
thrown  into  the  wagon,  and  my  wounded  associate  thrown 
on  the  mattress.  The  daughters  fled  with  me  on  horse- 
back. The  traveling  and  jolting  inflamed  De  Yon- 
pelt's  wound  and  pained  him  to  agony.  He  was  earnest 
and  eloquent  again  with  me  and  his  daughters  to  fly  and 
leave  him  to  his  fate.  They  felt  as  I  did  on  this  point, 
and  I  assured  him  that  to  leave  him  was  a  thing  not  to  be 
thought  of,  and  we  should  all  share  his  fate,  be  it  what  it 
might.  That  fate  was  that  we  should  all  be  arrested  and 
taken.  Twenty  horsemen  pursued  and  overtook  us  within 
a  few  miles  of  the  town.  Resistance  was  out  of  the  ques- 
tion; we  surrendered,  were  carried  back  to  town  and 
thrown  into  the  calaboose,  where  all  the  prisoners  that 


272  Robert  Gordon. 

had  not  been  speared  were  secured  together.  It  was  a  kind 
of  Calcutta  Black  Hole;  we  were  tortured  with  heat, 
thirst  and  vermin.  It  was,  indeed,  a  rude  receptacle  for 
ladies  like  the  Misses  Vonpelt.  But  in  this  terrible  commu- 
nity of  misery,  where  groans,  exclamations  and  calls  for  the 
deliverance  of  death  rung  around  us  on  every  side,  the  very 
excess  of  our  wretchedness  inspired  these  sufferers  with  the 
tranquil  and  tearless  indifference  of  despair.  I  made  an 
effort  to  influence  the  keepers  to  allow  another  place  for 
these  young  ladies.  But  I  either  spoke  to  the  deaf  or 
incurred  only  contempt  and  ridicule.  They  entreated  me 
to  make  no  further  exertions  of  this  kind,  assuring  me  that 
nothing  should  separate  them  from  their  father. 

In  the  blindness  of  their  exasperation,  the  royalists  found 
no  place  for  the  exercise  of  mercy  or  discrimination.  Old 
and  young,  guilty  or  innocent,  male  or  female,  the  beggar 
swarming  with  vermin,  or  those  young  ladies  clad  in  the 
richest  dresses,  so  that  they  were  known  to  have  adhered  to 
the  patriot  cause,  or  even  to  be  connected  with  those  who 
had,  were  all  placed  in  the  same  predicament.  The  blood 
even  now  chills  in  my  veins  as  I  remember  how  the  women 
fell  on  their  knees  before  me  as  I  was  retreating  on  San 
Antonio,  entreating  me  with  clasped  hands  not  to  leave 
them  to  the  vengeance  of  the  royalists.  In  the  calaboose 
we  learned  the  fate  of  the  remnant  of  the  retreating  pa- 
triots that  escaped  the  fatal  field  of  Palos  Blancos  and  the 
first  fury  of  pursuit.  A  party  of  the  royal  cavalry  took 
a  nearer  route  to  the  town,  anticipating  the  fugitives,  and 
placing  themselves  on  the  banks  of  the  river,  where  three 
different  roads  from  the  battlefield  met,  they  here  spread 
a  net  which  caught  in  its  meshes  every  individual,  most  of 
whom  they  speared  on  the  spot.  Fifty  of  them  were  reserved 
for  more  enduring  sufferings,  and  were  now  in  prison 
with  us.  I  was  aware  that  if  the  Conde  had  been  here, 


The  Tide  Turned.  273 

with  his  usual  ascendancy  in  the  councils,  De  Vonpelt's 
family  and  myself  should  have  been  spared.  As  it  was, 
there  was  scarcely  a  ray  of  hope  that  our  fate  would  be 
delayed  until  the  Conde  could  intimate  his  will  in  re- 
spect to  our  case.  It  was  even  doubtful  if  he  now  retained 
influence  enough  to  arrest  our  fate  if  he  wished  to.  We 
only  knew  that  the  royalist  chiefs  were  deliberating  upon 
our  fate  during  the  first  dreadful  night  in  this  place.  The 
fate  itself  was  in  the  awful  suspense  of  conjecture.  We 
could  think  of  but  a  single  friend  who  would  be  disposed 
to  make  an  effort  for  us,  and  that  was  Fergus;  who  took 
a  different  street  in  entering  the  town,  and  had  not  been 
heard  from  since. 

The  groans,  the  ejaculations,  the  agonizing  prayers  to 
the  Virgin  and  to  the  saints,  the  ridiculous  vows  of  silver 
shrines  and  images  to  their  patron  saints,  if  they  would 
interpose  for  their  escape,  the  curses  of  despair,  in  this 
stifling  place  of  utter  darkness,  during  this  dreadful  night, 
can  never  be  erased  from  my  memory.  I  considered  it  a 
kind  of  representation  of  the  spirits  in  the  final  prison  of 
darkness.  I  am  not  now  able  to  analyze  my  own  reflec- 
tions. I  certainly  was  not  above  the  instinctive  love  of 
life,  for  fear  of  death.  But  the  cause,  it  seemed,  was  irre- 
trievably ruined.  Dona  Isabel  could  not  henceforward 
come  within  the  scope  of  my  wildest  hopes.  Here  were 
beautiful  girls,  reared  like  the  lily  of  the  valley,  who 
awaited  their  destiny  in  tranquillity.  All  about  me  was  the 
frantic  agony  of  cowardly  despair.  I  am  afraid  I  shall 
never  be  again  so  resigned  to  die  as  I  was  that  night. 

Nothing  struck  me  more,  this  sad  night,  than  the  de- 
portment of  the  daughters  of  De  Vonpelt.  At  first  I 
mistook  their  sedateness  for  the  tranquillity  of  despair.  It 
was  the  exertion  of  the  noblest  fortitude.  It  was  the  high 
principled  sensibility  of  strong  minds,  called  into  exer- 


274  Robert  Gordon. 

else  by  the  most  tender  and  sacred  motives  that  can  swell 
the  human  breast.  It  was  filial  love,  manifesting  itself  in 
a  holy  effort  to  smooth  the  path  of  their  father  to  death. 
There  was  to  me,  in  the  same  predicament  with  the  rest, 
a  thrill  of  sublime  feeling,  as  I  witnessed  these  beautiful 
girls,  whose  faces,  in  the  day  of  their  prosperity,  "the 
winds  of  heaven  had  not  been  permitted  to  visit  too 
roughly,"  in  the  midst  of  darkness,  shrieks  and  despair, 
with  the  prospect  of  military  execution  in  the  morning, 
for  their  father,  for  me,  and  probably  for  themselves,  still 
preserving  an  unalterable  tranquillity.  They  must  feel 
it  a  privilege,  if  we  might  be  permitted  to  die  without  tor- 
ture. They  seemed  to  regard  it  all  as  nothing.  It  ap- 
peared as  if  they  had  shaken  hands  with  life  and  had 
relinquished  all  its  prospects  without  a  tear  of  regret  for 
themselves.  All  the  sympathies  of  their  hearts  were  for 
their  father  and  me.  Theirs  was  not  the  posing  exhorta- 
tions to  patience  and  courage,  in  heavy  and  set  phrase 
which  most  would  have  uttered  on  a  like  occasion.  They 
evinced  an  elastic  tranquillity,  which  is  naturally  infec- 
tious, and  which  seemed  to  say  in  every  word  and  action, 
"the  bitterness  of  death  is  past"  for  us,  and  all  we  think 
and  say  is  for  others.  While  occasionally  an  uncontrollable 
burst  of  sorrow  stifled  the  voice  of  the  father,  they  tenderly 
begged  him  to  be  calm,  and  expressed  themselves  happy 
that  they  were  not  torn  one  from  another  in  succession, 
imposing  the  penalty  of  a  lingering  death  upon  the  sur- 
vivors, but  they  were  likely,  now,  all  to  depart  together. 

The  earliest  impressions  of  religion  are  those  that  come 
to  our  aid  in  such  emergencies.  The  daughters  remem- 
bered the  prayers  and  the  rites  of  their  infancy  in  Fader- 
land.  They  recited  those  prayers,  and,  separating  our- 
selves as  much  as  we  could  from  the  groaning,  frantic 
rabble  about  us,  they  knelt  beside  their  father,  and 


The  Tide  Turned.  275 

went  through  the  simple  and  affecting  service  of  the  Saxon 
Lutheran  Church  for  persons  in  the  last  extremity. 
They  sang  a  hymn,  so  much  the  more  impressive  for  its 
quaint  and  ancient  rhymes,  and  for  their  touching  and 
sweet  voices,  which  I  had  never  heard  in  song  before. 
These  prayers  and  this  hymn  infused  something  of  their 
enthusiasm  and  fortitude  into  the  heart  of  their  father. 
"Indeed,  my  sweet  girls,"  said  he,  "I  am  right  glad,  since 
it  must  be  so,  that  we  are  to  make  this  journey  all  together. 
My  old  heart  could  not  stand  a  moment  the  thought  of 
leaving  you  alone,  among  this  tamned  peoples." 

From  their  father  they  turned  to  me.  There  was  always 
something  touching  in  their  strong  German  accent,  and  pe- 
culiarity at  this  time,  when  the  condensed  emotions  of  their 
hearts  gave  it  a  peculiar  and  thrilling  intonation  of  ten- 
derness. "You  have  been  to  us,"  said  Jeannette,  "father, 
brother  and  friend,  all  in  one.  The  full  expression  of  our 
feelings  to  you  at  this  time  cannot  be  mistaken,  for, 
surely,  at  this  time  we  may  be  allowed  to  say  all  that  is  in 
our  hearts.  We  die,  and  we  wish  to  die,  with  our  father. 
But  it  seems  hard,  almost  mysterious,  that  so  young  and  so 
good  a  man,  who  has  been  everything  to  our  father  and  to 
us,  and  who  might  have  escaped,  should  be  brought  here 
to  die.  It  must  be  a  hard  case  to  you,  for  you  love,  and 
are  beloved,  and  yet  you  alone,  of  all  this  frantic  multitude, 
seem  to  be  calm."  "Can  I,"  I  asked,  "who  am  a  man, 
and  who  wears  the  garb  of  a  soldier,  and  who  knew,  when 
I  embraced  this  desperate  cause,  that  it  did  not  promise 
to  be  a  holiday  business,  can  I  shrink  from  death,  when  I 
see  women  so  young,  and  so  beautiful,  manifest  so  much 
fortitude  and  resignation  to  their  fate?"  Katie"  mourn- 
fully added:  "But  we  love  none  but  our  father  and  you. 
We  have  not  a  being  to  mourn  for  us.  We  are  strangers 
in  a  strange  land,  and  the  name  will  perish  with  us.  Tell 


276  Robert  Gordon. 

me,  is  it  selfish  or  not  ?  There  is  a  kind  of  dreadful  satis- 
faction to  me,  that  we  are  all  alike  involved,  and  that  there 
will  be  no  wretched  survivor  after  we  are  laid  in  the  last 
bed.  I  would  die  rather  than  give  pain  to  my  dear  father, 
to  my  sisters,  or  to  you.  Can  it  be  that  I  am  selfish  in 
finding  satisfaction  in  the  thought  that  we  are  all  going 
together?" 

"My  tear  Jeannette,"  said  the  father,  "it  makes  me 
almost  feel  in  heaven  to  hear  you  sing.  Pray  sing  me  now 
that  sweet  song  that  you  sung  one  evening  when  I  was  low 
spirited  on  the  mountain."  She  immediately  complied,  and 
just  murmured  in  a  wild  and  plaintive  air,  in  Spanish,  the 
words,  of  which  the  following  is  part  of  a  very  exact 
translation : 

'Oh!  let  the  soul  its  slumbers  break, 
Arouse  its  senses,  and  awake, 

To  see  how  soon 

Life,  with  its  glories,  glides  away, 
And  the  stern  footsteps  of  decay 

Come  stealing  on. 

'And  when  we  eye  the  rolling  tide, 
lDown  which  our  -flowing  minutes  glide 

Always  so  fast; 

'Let  us  the  present  hour  employ, 
'And  deem  each  future  dream  a  joy 

Already  past. 

'Let  no  vain  hopes  deceive  the  mind, 
2Vo  happier  let  us  hope  to  find 

To-morrow,  than  to-day; 
Our  golden  dreams  of  yore  were  bright, 
Like  them  the  present  shall  delight, 

LiTce  them  decay. 


The  Tide  Turned.  $77 

While  these  excellent  daughters  were  thus  arming 
themselves,  and  evincing  that  noble  passive  fortitude  which 
seems  the  appropriate  gift  of  the  best  women  in 
such  circumstances,  the  wretched  father  passed  from  pray- 
ers and  tears  to  gloomy  silence.  Sometimes  all  the  father 
would  rise  within  him,  and  burst  forth  in  irrepressible 
grief,  "My  sweet  girls,"  said  he,  "forgive  your  silly  father 
for  undoing  you.  Oh!  dat  pad  tay,  when  I  took  up  for 
this  wicked  people,  and  the  tamned  liperties.  Let  the 
day  perish,  when  I  left  my  good  stone  house,  and  brought 
my  daughters  among  this  tamned  peoples.  They  are  no 
more  fit  for  the  liperties  than  wolves.  Mein  Gott!  for- 
give me  for  these  follies.  I  have  brought  ruin  on  you 
all,  my  tear  girls,  this  young  man  and  myself."  In  this 
style  of  self-reproach  he  continued  until  he  wrought  him- 
self into  paroxysms.  But  why  go  through  with  the  hor- 
rors of  that  dreadful  night!  The  unabating  heroism  and 
tenderness  of  these  daughters  did  not  remit,  and  the  father 
finally  became  settled  in  his  tranquillity,  laid  himself 
down  on  his  straw,  and  soon  fell  into  a  profound  slumber. 
The  girls  retired  into  a  corner  by  themselves,  undoubtedly 
to  hold  communion  with  death  and  with  God,  before  whom 
they  expected  so  soon  to  appear. 

If  I  had  been  disposed  to  look  on  my  fate  with  dismay 
I  could  not  but  have  caught  something  of  their  tender- 
ness and  elevation  of  heart.  I  retired  too,  and  the  prayers 
that  came  spontaneous  to  my  lips,  were  those  which  my 
good  mother  used  to  say  to  me  when  she  put  me  in  my 
bed  in  my  infant  days.  "Our  Father,  who  art  in  Heaven, 
thy  will  be  done!"  These  sublime  words  were  repeated 
again  and  again. 

When  the  gleams  of  the  morning  began  to  pour  light 
enough  into  our  dungeon  to  render  "darkness  visible," 
what  ghastly  faces,  what  agonized  countenances  did  this 


278  Robert  Gordon. 

pale  and  unearthly  light  exhibit?  Here  were  nearly  an 
hundred  people,  expecting  this  morning  to  exchange  time 
for  eternity.  Few  of  them  had  principle,  rational  pride, 
true  courage,  religion,  or  the  hope  of  immortality.  They 
clung  to  life  from  instinct  and  appetite,  and  had  no  hope 
heyond  life,  no  motives  to  fortify  them  against  the 
fears  of  death.  The  morning  light,  hy  bringing  the  pros- 
pects of  death  immediately  before  them,  redoubled  the 
shrieks,  ejaculations,  and  groans,  until  the  very  confusion 
and  excess  of  the  misery  took  away  its  distinctness  and 
horror.  A  supply  of  the  coarsest  food  and  some  water 
were  put  into  our  dungeon,  and  we  were  notified  that 
immediately  after  taking  our  food  we  should  be  ordered 
out  to  receive  our  sentence. 

In  half  an  hour  the  drums  rolled  at  the  door.  The 
keys  rattled.  The  heavy  door  grated  on  its  hinges,  and 
we  were  called  out,  one  by  one,  by  an  officer,  who  recited 
our  names  from  a  scroll.  A  regiment  guarded  us.  De 
Vonpelt,  enfeebled  by  fever,  his  wound,  and  the  agony  of 
a  broken  heart,  required  the  support  of  his  daughters ;  and 
it  was  a  sight  to  go  to  any  heart  to  see  these  fair  and 
innocent  daughters  supporting  their  father  amidst  the 
fierce  and  pitiless  array  of  a  regiment  of  soldiers  to  the 
place  of  execution.  While  the  two  elder  daughters  each 
held  an  arm  of  their  father,  the  trembling  Etta  leaned 
upon  mine.  One-half  of  the  group  were  women  and 
children,  or  persons  too  old  or  too  young  to  have  been 
committed  by  any  overt  act,  and  were  here  on  account  of 
their  affinity  with  those  who  had.  The  groans  and  the 
sobbing  were  drowned  by  the  rolling  of  the  drum,  the 
shrill  notes  of  the  fife,  and  a  dead  march  played  by  the 
full  band. 

Half  a  mile  from  town,  in  a  hollow  which  descended 
gently  in  the  manner  of  an  amphitheatre,  was  the  place 


The  Tide  Turned.  279 

of  sentence  and  execution.  In  fact,  in  this  case  they 
were  the  same  thing.  A  priest,  in  his  pontifical  robes, 
stood  by  with  a  crucifix  in  one  hand,  and  a  burning  candle 
in  the  other.  The  name  of  every  person,  save  two  or  three 
was  recited,  and  the  persons  pronounced  guilty  of  treason, 
rebellion,  and  heresy,  and  were  sentenced  to  immediate 
execution.  They  were  then  called  out  in  the  order  of  the 
names  on  the  paper.  They  were  allowed  but  two  minutes 
for  confession.  A  file  of  soldiers  stood  ready,  and  a  tall 
officer,  whose  swarthy  face  was  almost  covered  with  whisk- 
ers, held  up  his  sword  as  the  signal  for  discharge.  A  hand- 
kerchief was  loosely  folded  over  the  face  of  the  prisoner. 
He  was  led  to  a  central  point,  ordered  to  kneel,  the  sword 
was  raised,  the  victim  removed,  and  another  took  his 
place. 

I  am  as  little  disposed  to  relate,  as  you  would  be  to  hear, 
the  horrors  of  this  execution  in  detail.  It  was  protracted 
with  the  tedious  minuteness,  apparently  that  we  might 
have  a  long,  full  taste  of  the  misery  of  it.  The  parties 
stood  directly  by  me.  I  know  not  how  it  happened,  but 
although  I  expected  in  a  few  minutes  to  take  my  turn, 
I  felt  a  strange  curiosity  to  observe  both  the  feelings  of 
the  victims,  the  moment  before  they  were  led  away,  and 
their  spasms  after  they  had  received  the  discharge.  And 
never,  since  the  days  of  the  guillotine,  was  there  a  more 
thrilling  spectacle  of  the  manner  in  which  different  per- 
sons were  affected  with  the  immediate  prospects  of  death. 
Some  uttered  a  cry  and  fell,  and  were  lifted  up  and  carried 
away  to  receive  the  shot.  Others  with  more  physical  and 
moral  self-control,  had  made  a  violent  effort,  and  marched 
to  the  place  in  sullen  submission.  Some  were  affected  by 
a  strong  spasm,  which  appeared  to  commence  in  some  part 
of  the  frame,  and  to  diffuse  itself  over  the  whols  body. 
The  countenances  of  some  wore  the  paleness  of  death.  Of 


2  So  Robert  Gordon. 

others  the  whole  circulation  seemed  to  have  mounted  to  the 
head.  The  effect  of  the  discharges  upon  us  who  witnessed 
it,  and  who  waited  for  our  turn,  was  equally  various. 
Some  gave  a  shriek.  Others  a  long,  deep  drawn,  and 
quivering  sigh.  Jeannette  gave  a  faint  groan,  grasped  her 
father's  arm  more  closely,  held  her  breath  until  the  dis- 
charge, and  then  cried,  "Thank  God!  one  more  is  de- 
livered from  his  burden."  Upon  De  Vonpelt  every  dis- 
charge operated  with  a  stimulant  effect,  and  drew  out  an 
execration  upon  the  treachery  and  cowardice  that  had 
brought  them  there.  We  observed  that  the  females,  and 
those  too  old  and  too  young  to  have  borne  arms,  were  ex- 
cepted  and  reserved.  Noticing  this  the  daughters  uttered 
an  exclamation  of  terror,  lest  their  father  should  be 
called  out,  and  they  left  behind.  Most  of  the  Spanish 
prisoners  had  passed  to  the  priest,  and  joined  with  him  in 
some  brief  rite  appertaining  to  confession.  Our  names 
were  among  the  last  on  the  scroll,  and  we  were  reserved 
to  witness  the  manner  in  which  all  the  rest  received  the 
consummation  of  their  fate  before  we  could  know  ours.  I 
believe  we  began  to  have  a  presentiment  from  the  very 
manner  in  which  the  officers  looked  upon  us,  that  we 
should  be  remanded  to  the  prison. 

Toward  the  close  of  the  execution  they  called  out  a 
fine  young  man,  the  handsomest  provincial  I  had  seen. 
I  had  noticed  him  frequently  before.  He  had  been  pointed 
out  to  me  as  being  the  finest  young  man  in  New  Spain. 
He  had  been  an  ensign  in  the  royal  army;  but  being  a 
republican  he  had  deserted,  and  joined  the  patriots.  He 
was  pointed  out  in  all  circles  as  gay,  amiable,  modest,  and 
gallant,  devoted  to  his  friends  and  a  universal  favorite 
with  the  ladies.  His  faults  were  free-thinking  and  gal- 
lantry. He  was  just  the  kind  of  a  character  to  call  forth 
the  deepest  sympathy  in  his  favor.  They  called  on  him 


HOW  A  PATRIOT  LOOKS  WHEN  HE  DIES 


The  Tide  Turned.  281 

to  confess  and  prepare  for  execution.  "Away,"  said  he, 
"with  these  miserable  mummeries !  Eeserve  them  for  the 
wretched  cowards  that  in  battle  leave  their  standard,  and 
go  over  to  the  enemy.  Thank  God!  my  mind  needs  not 
that  kind  of  support.  I  am  a  young  man;  but  I  have 
known  how  to  enjoy  myself,  and  I  know  how  to  die." 
He  had  a  most  delightful  voice,  and  sung  a  stanza  of  a 
patriotic  ode,  in  fashion  at  the  time,  with  thrilling*  and 
prodigious  effect.  When  they  came  for  him  a  general 
feeling  of  horror  passed  over  the  countenances  of  the 
survivors.  Even  the  stern  faces  of  the  soldiers,  who  per- 
formed the  execution,  relaxed  to  pity,  and  many  a  tear 
rolled  down  to  their  mustaches.  He  took  up  a  little  fav- 
orite dog  that  clung  to  his  steps,  and  passed  it  to  a  friend, 
and  as  he  gave  away  the  dog  we  witnessed  a  slight 
faltering,  as  of  overpowering  feeling.  But  he  recov- 
ered in  a  moment,  and  walked  to  his  place  with  a 
countenance  not  only  undaunted,  but  gay,  and  with  a 
firm  and  elastic  step.  They  were  preparing  the  hand- 
kerchief as  usual.  But  he  calmly  waved  them  off.  "I 
wish,"  said  he,  "to  gain  converts  to  the  patriot  cause  by 
showing  these  people  how  a  patriot  looks  when  he  dies. 
Look  yon  all  at  the  face  of  a  patriot  soldier."  At  the 
same  time  he  cast  a  calm  and  imposing  look  round  on  the 
multitude.  He  put  his  right  hand  over  his  left  breast 
and  requested  them  to  aim  at  his  hand.  He  waved  the 
other  gracefully  over  his  head  shouting,  "Viva  la  Repub- 
lica!"  But  two  more  were  executed.  De  Vonpelt,  his 
daughters,  myself,  and  five  other  Americans,  the  women, 
two  or  three  old  men,  and  the  children,  were  sent  back 
to  prison,  to  wait,  as  we  were  told,  further  orders  in  our 
case.  The  bodies  of  those  who  had  been  executed  were 
thrown  into  a  gully,  promiscuously,  and  so  slightly  covered 
with  earth  that  the  wolves  and  vultures,  as  I  was  afterward 


282  Robert  Gordon. 

informed,  removed  the  earth,  and  made  them  their  prey. 
When  we  returned  to  the  prison  we  were  not  so  crowded, 
and  the  parties  were  relieved  from  the  fears  of  immediate 
death.  But  even  the  absence  of  the  crowd  of  the  preced- 
ing night  had  its  horrors.  What  had  become  of  so  many 
people,  but  a  few  hours  before  so  clamorous  in  their  griefs, 
and  sharing  with  us  the  sorrows  of  existence?  Mothers 
had  lost  sons,  wives  had  lost  husbands,  and  there  was  more 
than  one  young  Spanish  mother,  with  her  long,  swarthy 
visage,  and  her  intensely  black  eyes  suffused  with  tears, 
nursing  the  babe  at  her  breast,  whose  father  had  just  been 
shot  down.  Words  convey  but  a  feeble  idea  of  such  a 
scene.  Memory  has  preserved  it  in  my  mind  with  a  pain- 
ful fidelity.  The  daughters  and  the  father  were  still  more 
earnest  in  their  thanksgiving  for  their  deliverance,  than 
they  had  been  in  their  prayers  of  preparation. 


Friends  Indeed.  283, 


CHAPTEE  XIX. 

FBIENDS   INDEED. 

A  NUMBER  of  days  elapsed  in  this  dreary  place  without 
bringing  any  change  or  any  intelligence  of  what  was  going 
on  abroad.  My  fair  companions  continued  the  same  noble 
and  affectionate  deportment  to  their  father  and  me  as  be- 
fore. They  lay  down  on  their  mouldy  straw,  and  en- 
dured their  evils,  and  ate  their  miserable  food  with  cheer- 
fulness. When  I  felt  it  necessary  to  recur  to  the  uncer- 
tainty of  our  case,  they  assured  me  that  they  were  prepared 
for  either  joy  or  sorrow.  A  trial  now  presented  itself  to 
them,  which  appeared  to  be  too  heavy  for  even  their  forti- 
tude to  sustain.  The  gay  and  honest  hearted  Saxon  had 
been  free,  and  rather  epicurean  in  his  habits,  and  had  been 
so  long  accustomed  to  the  luxuries  of  the  table,  and  the 
cleanliness  and  comforts  of  an  opulent  mansion,  that  his 
wound,  confinement,  and  miserable  food,  filth,  and  vermin, 
together  with  the  gloom  of  his  prospects,  and  the  agoniz- 
ing feeling  of  a  father  at  beholding  his  daughters  in  such 
a  condition,  strongly  affected  his  health,  his  countenance 
grew  pale,  his  habit  was  feverish,  and  he  pined  in 
remembrance  of  what  had  been.  "I  was  prepared/'  said 
Jeannette,  "to  see  him  fall  as  a  soldier,  when  I  expecte  •• 
to  share  it  with  him,  but  it  is  too  much  to  see  him  linger 
and  die  in  this  way,  with  the  sad  prospects  of  surviving 


284  Robert  Gordon. 

him  in  this  horrible  place."  The  other  daughters  had  their 
forebodings,  too,  but  neither  of  them  spoke  on  the  subject 
in  the  presence  of  the  others.  It  was  only  when  the  fathei' 
and  the  other  daughters  were  beyond  hearing,  that  the  re- 
maining one  relieved  the  oppression  of  her  heart  in  con- 
sultation with  me  on  this  gloomy  subject.  My  own 
thoughts  were  of  the  same  sort.  I  saw  he  could  not  long 
survive  this  state  of  things.  But  I  spoke  as  cheerfully  as 
I  could,  and  bade  them  hope,  assuring  them  that  I  was  per- 
suaded that  something  would  soon  happen  to  brighten  our 
prospects. 

My  predictions  were  soon  verified.  I  had  all  along  in- 
dulged the  hope  that  Fergus  would  not  be  idle  if  he  lived, 
and  I  entertained  the  hope  that  he  did  live.  He  was  well 
mounted,  shrewd,  and  one  of  those  men  who  have  the 
faculty  of  making  themselves  acceptable  with  all  parties. 
I  had  the  impression  also  that  I  had  seen  him  on  the  day 
of  the  execution  with  the  spectators  and  royal  troops,  and 
wearing  the  badge  of  the  royalists.  I  had  no  doubt  of  his 
fidelity,  and  was  satisfied  that  if  it  were  he,  the  badge  was 
only  assumed  to  serve  me  the  more  effectively.  When  my 
hopes  from  that  quarter  were  almost  extinct,  and  I  had 
begun  to  think  that  he  was  dead,  one  evening  as  I  was  stand- 
ing by  the  small  grated  aperture,  by  which  the  little  air 
and  light  we  had,  was  let  in  upon  us,  and  while  I  was  at- 
tempting to  get  the  last  glimpses  of  the  sun  sinking  be- 
hind the  hills,  I  heard  a  slight  noise,  or  scratching  on  the 
outside,  and  by  bringing  my  face  in  contact  with  the  grate, 
I  saw  a  paper  on  the  end  of  a  long  reed,  and  put  my  fin- 
gers through  the  grate  and  took  it  in.  To  my  surprise 
and  joy  it  was  from  Fergus,  and  ran  thus :  "God  bless  yer 
honor!  I  am  here  all  the  time,  and  would  stay  more,  but 
I  am  afraid  they  will  guess  what  I  would  be  at,  bother 
them!  I  hope  yer  honor  don't  think  I  am  an  Orange- 


Friends  Indeed  285 

man,  for  all  I  wear  the  king's  ribbon.  They'll  always  find 
Fergus  as  true  as  steel.  I  thought  that  maybe  I  could 
do  something  for  ye  at  the  Conde's.  So  I  turns  king's 
man,  and  goes  there.  The  Conde  is  a  gentleman  after  all, 
for  he  has  tried  to  get  ye  and  yer  friend's  family  off. 
But  the  young  Don,  and  the  father,  devil  burn  them, 
were  for  shooting  ye  down  like  the  rest.  They  are  a  little 
afraid  of  the  Americans.  I  could  see  that.  The  most 
the  Conde  could  do  was  to  have  ye  brought  to  Durango, 
and  tried  over  before  him  and  the  rest,  but  the  young  Don 
swears  that  he  will  see  to  the  hanging  of  ye  there.  'Two 
words,'  says  I,  'my  lad,  to  that  bargain.'  So  they  mean 
to  bring  ye  and  the  Dutchman  to  Durango,  and  hang 
ye  there,  devil  roast  them,  and  then  put  ye  up  on  the 
tower,  like  dead  crows  in  a  corn  field,  to  scare  the  rest. 
Never  ye  fear.  There  is  one  in  the  Conde's  family  that 
loves  ye  better  than  I.  We  will  have  ye  off  yet,  in 
spite  of  devil  or  dobbie." 

And  in  truth,  in  the  evening,  we  were  directed  to  prepare 
ourselves  to  be  taken  to  Durango  the  next  morning 
to  be  tried  on  the  charge  of  rebellion.  Accordingly,  at  an 
early  hour  the  next  morning  the  drums  rolled  again  at  the 
door  and  we  were  taken  out  and  put  in  a  six-horse  wagon, 
and,  under  the  guard  of  a  full  company  of  royal  regulars, 
we  were  started  for  Durango.  Nothing  marked  the  mo- 
notonous sadness  of  the  journey,  but  the  accustomed  sweet- 
ness, patience  and  sadness  of  the  young  ladies,  and  the  de- 
clining health  and  spirits  and  the  low  moanings  of  the 
father  as  the  jostling  tortured  his  wound.  He  and  I  were 
pinioned  fast,  which  rendered  the  journey  more  intoler- 
able. We  had  a  couple  of  sub-officers  in  the  wagon  with  us, 
another  circumstance  not  at  all  to  have  been  desired.  At 
night  we  were  removed  from  the  wagon  with  the  most 
guarded  caution,  and  were  placed  on  straw  in  the  wretched 


286  Robert  Gordon. 

hotels,  to  find  what  sleep  we  could,  devoured  by  vermin, 
surrounded  by  rabble  of  all  sorts,  and  guarded  by 
soldiers  drunk  with  argu  ardiente,  or  vino  mezical.  After 
a  number  of  weary  days  and  nights  so  spent,  I  saw  the 
young  ladies  reaching  their  heads  from  under  the  can- 
vas, and  their  eyes  were  filled  with  tears.  "Yonder," 
said  Jeannette,  clasping  her  hands,  "are  the  mountains  of 
Durango.  How  often  have  I  looked  at  their  blue  heads, 
when  I  was  free  and  happy."  I,  too,  aroused  myself  at 
this  intelligence,  and  looked  abroad.  The  evening  was 
drawing  on.  I  observed  a  cloud  of  dust  at  a  distance,  near- 
ing  us  with  great  rapidity.  Our  escort  comprehended  that 
there  was  trouble  in  the  wind,  for  they  immediately  pre- 
pared themselves  for  an  attack. 

In  five  minutes  from  the  first  view  of  the  dust,  we  discov- 
ered a  body  of  cavalry,  completely  armed  and  wearing  the 
patriot  badge.  They  shouted  "a  rescue,"  in  a  voice  of 
thunder,  and  in  the  next  instant  the  two  parties  were  at 
blows.  Whatever  amount  of  interest  we  felt  in  this  con- 
test, we  had  nothing  to  do  but  to  be  spectators,  as  patient  as 
we  might  and  await  the  issue.  Among  the  hundred  con- 
tests of  this  sort  that  took  place  unrecorded  during  the 
bloody  struggle  of  the  revolution  in  Mexico,  this  was  one 
of  the  fiercest  and  most  hotly  contested.  The  matter  was 
decided  by  the  sabre,  and  each  party  appeared  to  be  en- 
tirely in  earnest.  Wounds  were  given,  and  heads  cloven 
without  mercy.  At  one  moment  the  ladies  shrieked  and 
the  royalists  seemed  to  prevail.  At  the  next,  a  fortunate 
blow  from  a  patriot  sabre  inclined  the  scale  of  victory  to- 
ward them.  It  was  the  first  time  I  had  seen  brightness 
return  to  Vonpelt's  eye  since  the  fatal  field  of  Palos 
Blancos.  Even  his  despondency  was  thoroughly  aroused, 
to  see  the  issue  of  this  combat.  "Mein  Gott,"  said  he,  as 
he  saw  a  successful  patriot  cut  the  enemy  with  his  sabre, 


Friends  Indeed.  287 

"dat  vas  veil  done !  dunder  und  blitzen !  give  them  another, 
my  P°y>  °f  the  same  sort."  The  patriots  were  the  more 
numerous  party,  and,  as  was  generally  the  case,  fought  the 
fiercest.  But  the  royalists  sustained  the  fight  until  the 
small  area  of  the  battle  ground  was  slippery  with  blood 
and  the  greater  number  on  both  sides  were  either  killed  or 
wounded.  The  royalists,  completely  surrounded,  at  length 
threw  down  their  arms  and  called  for  quarter.  The  cap- 
tain of  the  patriots,  accompanied  by  Fergus,  whom  I  had 
seen  from  the  first  playing  his  part  manfully,  came  up  to 
us  all  covered  with  blood  and  shook  us  by  the  hand,  inform- 
ing us  that  we  were  free.  The  captain  of  the  royalists 
was  slain.  The  patriot  chief  informed  the  next  surviv- 
ing officer  that  his  only  object  in  this  affair  was  our  rescue, 
that,  having  achieved  it,  he  had  nothing  further  to  do  with 
him.  He  ordered  the  prisoners  to  clear  themselves,  and  let 
him  see  them  so  far  away  as  to  leave  no  fear  of  them  an- 
noying us,  and  that  he  should  then  shift  for  himself.  He 
advised  us  to  fly  in  the  direction  which  should  seem  to 
promise  us  the  best  chance  of  escape. 

While  the  patriot  captain  was  attending  to  his  wounded, 
and  the  royalists  gathering  up  theirs,  Fergus  gave  me  the 
particulars  of  this  plan  for  our  rescue.  The  Conde  had  so 
far  evinced  himself  an  honest  man,  that,  notwithstanding 
every  effort  of  his  intended  son-in-law  and  the  father  con- 
fessor, he  had  exerted  himself  to  the  utmost  to  obtain  our 
acquittal  and  permission  for  us  to  depart  unmolested  to  the 
United  States.  He  urged  my  character  and  my  interposi- 
tion for  his  rescue  from  the  assassins,  as  good  ground  for 
extending  this  favor  to  me  and  my  friends.  He  was  over- 
ruled in  both  requests,  and  had  the  further  mortification 
to  hear  himself  charged  in  the  court  with  derelic- 
tion of  duty  and  a  leaning  toward  the  patriot  cause.  It 
was  so  obvious  to  himself,  and  every  one  else,  that  he  had 


288  Robert  Gordon. 

no  longer  any  efficient  influence  in  the  council  that  he  re- 
signed his  command  in  disgust.  A  coolness  existed  be- 
tween himself  and  Colonel  De  Oli  and  the  father  confessor 
on  the  subject.  He  took  Fergus  home  with  him,  and  they 
planned  the  means  of  our  rescue,  as  we  were  coming  to 
Durango  according  to  the  order  of  the  council.  It  was  no 
difficult  thing,  on  an  estate  like  his,  containing  many 
thousands  of  tenants,  all  personally  known  to  him,  to  find 
enough  brave  and  trusty  men,  and  patriots  in  principle,  to 
form  the  company  that  effected  our  rescue.  'T5ut,"  said 
Fergus,  "yer  honor  will  see  that  he  never  showed  his 
finger  in  the  business.  The  business  was  all  managed  on 
the  back  stairs.  As  soon  as  yer  honor  and  yer  friends 
here  are  off  he  will  be  as  sorry  for  yer  escape  as  the  rest. 
They  will  send  out  for  ye,  and  maybe  put  a  price  on 
yer  heads,  as  they  have  done  for  others.  He  will  agree  to 
it  all,  and  join  in  the  hue  and  cry  against  ye,  just  as 
though  he  were  on  a  buffalo  hunt." 

Here  then  we  were  on  an  open  plain,  forty  miles  from 
Durango,  free  indeed,  but  one  of  our  party  wounded,  weak, 
and  three  ladies  to  encumber  us,  and  surrounded  by  danger 
of  pursuit  and  death  on  every  side.  The  patriot  captain 
proposed  our  taking  any  number  of  the  horses,  and  any 
provisions,  arms  and  ammunition  that  we  wished.  We 
consulted  with  him,  as  an  experienced  and  trusty  adviser, 
respecting  our  best  course  for  flight.  Between  us  and  the 
United  States  were  three  hundred  leagues  and  the  royal 
army,  with  scouts  and  patrols,  by  whom  we  could  not  fail 
to  be  intercepted.  Besides,  the  sinking  strength  of  De 
Vonpelt  was  entirely  unequal  to  any  distant  flight.  In 
front  of  us  was  a  city,  strongly  garrisoned  by  royal  troops, 
and  our  only  efficient  friend  obliged  to  assume  the  appear- 
ance of  an  enemy.  The  patriot  commander  only  waited 
until  we  should  select  the  direction  of  our  flight,  and 


Friends  Indeed.  289 

was  impatient  to  be  gone.  The  sun  was  sinking  be- 
hind the  summit  of  the  mountains,  and  their  shadows 
already  covered  us  and  the  scene  of  battle  with  a  cooling 
shade.  "Let  us  fly,"  said  Jeannette,  "to  these  mountains. 
Any  direction  is  better  than  to  remain  by  this  scene  of 
carnage.  I  have  always  loved  the  mountains.  They  lift 
their  sheltering  heads  in  their  unchangeable  repose  and 
remind  me  of  the  unfailing  shelter  over  the  friendless  and 
the  unchangeable  protection  of  that  Omnipotent  Being 
who  formed  them.  Let  us  call  on  the  rocks  to  shelter  us. 
Let  us  dwell  in  the  dens  and  caves  of  the  earth,  and  escape 
forever  from  man  and  these  sickening  scenes  of  battle  and 
blood.  You  shall  be  our  shepherd,  and  we  will  be  shep- 
herdesses. We  will  find  a  soft  and  mossy  couch  for  my 
poor  father.  We  will  nurse  him  and  cheer  him  and  sing 
to  him;  and  we  will  live  on  fruits  and  game  and  water 
from  the  spring."  All  this  pastoral  counsel  was  uttered 
in  a  tone  that  partook  partly  of  dismay  and  the  terror  of 
the  recent  combat  and  the  groans  of  the  dying  that  still 
rung  in  our  ears,  and  partly  of  a  wild,  half  frantic  and 
assumed  gaiety.  But  on  the  second  thought  it  struck  the 
captain  and  us  all  as  the  most  prudent  plan,  which,  in  the 
present  circumstances  that  could  be  devised.  We  hailed 
Jeannette's  rhapsody  as  the  result  of  inspiration.  The 
younger  sisters  and  the  father  fell  in  with  the  proposal. 
Fergus  declared  that  he  was  with  us  for  life  or  death,  and 
that  where  we  went,  if  we  would  allow  him,  there  he 
would  go  too.  "To  the  caves  of  the  mountains,"  was  the 
general  voice.  The  captain  gave  us  counsel  and  aid.  The 
wagon  that  had  brought  us  was  unloaded  of  all  unneces- 
sary articles.  From  the  slain  we  were  furnished  with  an 
ample  supply  of  every  kind  of  arms  and  ammunition. 
From  the  baggage  wagon  of  the  royalists,  which  they 
had  left  on  the  battlefield,  provisions,  axes,  implements  and 


290  Robert  Gordon. 

whatever  articles  a  hasty  consideration  of  our  probable 
wants  dictated  as  requisite,  we  took.  We  had  six  horses  to 
our  wagon,  and  we  selected  two  of  the  best  that  were 
left  on  the  field,  and  fastened  them  by  the  bridle  to  our 
wagon.  We  were  most  scrupulous  on  the  score  of  pro- 
visions, exhausting  the  patriots  as  well  as  securing  all  that 
had  been  left  by  the  royalists.  Fergus  mounted  the  seat 
as  driver,  and  we  disposed  of  our  party  amidst  sacks  of 
bread,  pikes  and  muskets,  somewhat  more  comfortable  than 
we  had  come  thus  far.  The  patriot  captain  walked  apart 
with  me,  and  we  held  a  private  consultation  for  a  moment. 
The  royalists  were  already  gone  with  their  wounded  be- 
yond sight.  We  tendered  solemn  and  grateful  thanks  to 
our  intrepid  deliverer.  He  wheeled  with  his  company  in 
one  direction.  We  waited  until  the  measured  gallop  of 
their  horses  was  no  longer  heard  over  the  plain.  Then 
we  took  a  direction  at  right  angles  to  the  road,  and  the 
nearest  direction  to  the  mountains. 


In  the  Mountains  Again.  291 


CHAPTER  XX. 

IN  THE   MOUNTAINS  AGAIN. 

WE  arrived  at  their  base  just  as  the  last  twilight  was 
fading  from  the  sky.  As  is  usual,  where  the  smooth  prai- 
rie is  continued  to  the  foot  of  the  mountains,  we  were  ar- 
rested by  a  high,  perpendicular  wall.  We  groped  along  its 
side  for  some  distance,  until  a  narrow  opening  admitted  us 
under  an  immense  projection,  rising  like  an  arched  roof, 
and  its  summit  reaching  a  hundred  feet  in  advance  of  its 
base  over  the  plain.  Such  shelters  are  common,  and  the 
wild  buffaloes,  we  saw,  had  found  an  asylum  there  before 
us.  It  offered  us  a  most  welcome  shelter  for  the  weary 
De  Vonpelt  and  his  daughters,  from  a  storm  that  seemed  to 
be  approaching.  It  was  barricaded  on  three  sides  by  im- 
passable heights  of  rock.  At  the  entrance  we  placed  our 
wagon  as  a  defence.  We  unharnessed  our  horses  and  took 
the  usual  precaution  to  prevent  their  escape,  and  turned 
them  out  to  their  repast  on  the  prairie.  Fergus  and  I  put 
ourselves  cheerfully  to  the  operation  of  wood  cutting.  Our 
hoary  cavern  was  soon  illumined  with  a  blazing  fire.  We 
prepared  a  couch  for  the  wounded  Saxon  of  the  cushions 
and  buffalo  robes  of  the  wagon  and  placed  him  more  at  his 
ease  than  he  had  been  since  the  battle.  Barrels  of  bread 
and  provisions  furnished  us  with  chairs.  We  brought 
forth  our  cold  provisions  and  excellent  parso.  Fergus 


292  Robert  Gordon. 

would  even  add  chocolate  to  our  preparations.  The  gath- 
ering tempest  of  thunder  and  rain  would  shield  us  from 
pursuit  until  another  day  should  enable  us  to  find  a  secure 
retreat.  We  were  at  once  most  comfortably  sheltered 
from  the  storm  and]  danger,  and  the  open  front  of  our 
shelter  gave  us  a  full  and  sublime  view  of  the  objects  below 
us,  for  the  moment,  by  the  gleams  of  lightning.  Cheered 
by  the  domestic  blaze  of  our  fire  we  sat  down  to  our  repast. 
We  could  not  persuade  Fergus  to  lay  aside  his  duty  as  a 
servant  and  take  his  place  at  the  table  with  us.  But  all 
his  Irish  vivacity  was  visible  in  his  good  nature  and  fresh 
countenance  as  he  waited  upon  our  table.  The  contrast  of 
the  tempest  and  the  thunder  abroad,  compared  with  our 
late  lonesome  abode  in  the  calaboose,  and  our  pinioned  im- 
prisonment in  our  wagon,  as  we  journeyed  to  Durango, 
thoughts  of  our  destiny  after  we  arrived  there,  the  bloody 
contest  which  had  effected  our  deliverance  from  these  dan- 
gers, the  shelter,  the  comforts,  the  smoking  chocolate,  and 
the  fragrant  parso,  received  under  these  circumstances  a 
zest  which  nothing  else  could  have  given.  De  Vonpelt 
ate  with  an  appetite  which  he  had  not  known  for  a  long 
time,  remarking  that  he  should  be  content  to  live  here  the 
rest  of  his  days  and  never  give  the  royalists  any  more 
trouble  about  the  "tamned  liperties,"  if  they  would  only 
let  him  alone,  and  leave  him  to  the  care  of  his  son  and 
daughters.  If  we  could  only  find  some  safe  retreat  like 
this  is  the  mountains  and  never  let  him  see  a  "tamned 
Creole"  more,  he  was  sure  that  he  should  recover  and  re- 
gain his  strength  and  appetite  again.  To  hear  their  father 
talk  this  way  brightened  the  faces  of  the  daughters.  They 
began  to  chat  with  their  wonted  gaiety  and  to  find  themes 
for  conversation  and  amusement  in  their  late  adventures, 
and  to  descant  upon  the  new  character  of  shepherdesses 
that  they  proposed  to  assume.  We  began  to  compare  our 


In  the  Mountains  Again.  293 

situation  with  our  condition  upon  Mount  Mextpal,  and 
the  ladies,  whom  the  recent  events  had  inspired  with  a 
new  dislike  of  the  Creole  character,  considered  it  a  cir- 
cumstance in  favor  of  our  present  condition  that  we  had 
none  of  them  here.  We  even  took  it  for  a  good  omen  for 
the  future  that  Providence,  on  our  first  approach  to  the 
mountains,  just  as  a  storm  was  impending,  had  furnished 
such  a  desirable  shelter,  as  we  might  at  other  times  have 
sought  whole  days  without  finding.  The  only  circum- 
stance to  be  regretted  was  that  in  the  morning  we  should 
be  obliged  to  renounce  it  and  seek  in  the  mountains  for 
one  more  remote  from  inspection  and  more  easily  defended. 
To  our  present  retreat  we  could  be  traced  by  the  marks  of 
our  wagon.  There  was  no  danger  at  least  for  this  night. 
Everything  that  could  would  be  sheltered  while  such  a 
storm  raged  abroad.  We  agreed  that  in  gratitude  for  such 
a  great  and  happy  deliverance  we  ought  to  waive  all  ap- 
prehensions, cast  our  fears,  as  far  as  we  could,  to  the  winds, 
and  place  a  simple  trust  in  Him  who  had  thus  far  so  gra- 
ciously and  wonderfully  delivered  us,  and  who  thus  called 
upon  us  to  trust  Him  for  the  future.  After  we  had  fin- 
ished our  devotions,  Fergus  and  I,  with  a  little  direction 
from  the  ladies,  prepared  our  rustic  but  comfortable 
couches  on  the  abundance  of  leaves  which  had  drifted 
under  the  rocks,  by  spreading  our  cloaks  and  blankets 
upon  them. 

With  the  first  gleams  of  the  morning  light  Fergus  and  I 
arose  and  took  a  long  ramble  in  the  mountains.  The  sun 
was  bright  in  the  sky  and  the  morning  glittering  with 
renovation  derived  from  the  copious  shower  when  we  re- 
turned to  the  family.  They  had  slept  profoundly,  and 
were  refreshed,  but  had  become  painfully  anxious  on  ac- 
count of  our  absence.  Our  breakfast  was  as  cheerful  as 
our  supper  had  been.  The  clouds  were  all  dispersed  and 


294  Robert  Gordon. 

the  mountains  reeked  with  rolling  mist  that  looked  beauti- 
ful upon  their  summits  after  a  great  rain.  The  perfect 
clearness  of  the  day  admonished  us  that  it  was  now  that  we 
ought  to  be  apprehensive  of  pursuit.  I  had  found  a  prac- 
ticable defile  for  our  horses  far  into  the  mountains.  How- 
ever reluctantly,  we  were  compelled  to  leave  our  wagon 
here.  De  Vonpelt  felt  so  much  refreshed  and  better 
that  he  thought  he  was  able  to  ride.  We  packed 
part  of  our  baggage  on  the  three  spare  horses.  We  secured 
the  provisions  and  articles  that  were  reserved  to  be  carried 
up  at  another  time,  and  Fergus  and  myself  occasionally  on 
foot  we  began  to  wind  slowly  around  the  spiral  line  of  the 
defile.  De  Vonpelt  soon  complained  of  pain  and  fatigue, 
and  shortly  after  declared  himself  unable  to  endure  his 
situation  any  longer.  The  daughters  dismounted  and  we 
placed  the  father  at  his  ease  under  the  shade  of  a  tree,  and 
left  them  to  fan  him  and  bestow  upon  him  their  filial  at- 
tentions, while  Fergus  and  I  went  in  search  of  a  place  which 
would  afford  us  the  three  requisites  that  our  case  called  for 
— shelter,  secrecy  and  defence. 

At  an  elevation  of  perhaps  twelve  hundred  feet  and  at  a 
distance  of  a  league  and  a  half  from  the  base  of  the  moun- 
tain, we  found  a  limestone  cavern,  of  narrow  entrance> 
which  two  persons  might  be  able  to  defend  against  a  hun- 
dred and  yet  the  opening  admitted  light  and  air  sufficient 
for  habitation  and  comfort.  At  the  foot  was  a  small  table 
plain,  beautifully  variegated  with  herbs  and  flowers,  shel- 
tered by  precipitous  cliffs,  and  shaded  with  fine  sycamores, 
and  still  further  accommodated  with  a  rivulet  of  pure, 
cool  water,  which  gushed  out  in  different  springs  at  the 
foot  of  the  rocks.  A  full  mile  of  the  defile  below  us,  in  all 
its  wanderings,  was  completely  under  the  eye,  from  the 
foot  of  the  cavern,  so  that  we  could  discern  the  approach 
of  assailants  a  considerable  time  before  they  could  reach 


In  the  Mountains  Again.  295 

us.  Parroquets,  red  birds,  mocking  birds,  nightingales,  and 
a  variety  of  unknown  birds  of  beautiful  song  and  plumage 
flitted  and  caroled  among  the  branches  of  the  sycamores. 
Alpine  flowers  were  associated  on  the  stream  with  splendid 
cups  of  the  tropical  flowering  plants.  The  capability  of  the 
place  to  supply  our  wants  for  a  long  concealment  was  still 
more  increased  by  the  circumstance  that  herds  of  wild  cat- 
tle, deer  and  buffalo,  must  pass  near  this  cavern  in  wind- 
ing their  way  up  and  down  the  mountain. 

Fergus  held  up  his  hands  in  astonishment.  <fNow," 
said  he,  "in  the  name  of  St.  Patrick,  this  thing  is  a  sure 
sign  that  yer  honor  is  under  the  care  of  the  saints.  Where 
could  we  find  another  such  a  place  upon  the  earth?  It 
seems  just  made  to  our  hands/'  In  truth,  taken  all  in  all, 
it  was  a  little  paradise,  hid  in  the  mountains,  exactly  for 
our  case.  The  only  difficulty  was  to  get  our  family  moved 
up  to  it.  I  left  Fergus  to  cut  down  the  bushes  at  the 
entrance  and  take  the  rude  but  necessary  steps  toward  fit- 
ting the  cave  for  habitation,  while  I  descended  to  assist 
the  family  to  ascend  to  it.  We  had  left  them  about  half- 
way between  this  place  and  the  plain.  De  Vonpelt  had 
been  refreshed  by  rest  and  the  cool  shade.  The  family 
mounted  their  horses  again,  and  we  were  tediously  em- 
ployed for  hours  in  mounting  up  to  the  cavern.  The  fam- 
ily was  as  much  delighted  with  the  place  as  we  had  been. 
In  front  of  it  was  range  for  our  horses,  and  with  the  little 
fitting  up,  for  which  we  had  ample  means,  we  should  have 
a  commodious  mansion  in  perfect  keeping  with  the  sweet 
little  plain  in  front  of  it.  Fergus  had  seen  enough  of  the 
new  countries,  as  he  called  them,  to  have  learned  all  the 
little  contrivances  of  a  backwoodsman.  We  furnished 
our  beds  with  frames  fixed  on  crotches.  We  had  our  per- 
manent table.  The  Spanish  beard  or  long  moss  furnished 
soft  and  elastic  mattresses.  The  young  ladies,  with  the 


296  Robert  Gordon. 

cheerfulness  and  even  gaiety  of  rustic  brides  fitting  up  the 
cabins  of  their  bridegrooms,  put  their  hands  to  the  finish- 
ing and  arranging  the  comforts  of  our  new  abode.  We 
made  their  father  and  them  comfortable  places  for 
sleeping  before  night;  we  proposed  a  hundred  improve- 
ments for  the  morrow,  and  our  thoughts  were  already  expa- 
tiating in  the  natural  range  from  utility  to  ornament,  for 
the  young  ladies  observed  that  they  intended  to  be  shep- 
herdesses of  taste  and  would  have  matters  within  to  corre- 
spond with  so  sweet  a  place  without.  We  had  our  prayers 
at  the  close  of  the  day  and  our  hymn  of  thankfulness  from 
our  fair  chaplains.  As  his  daughters  assisted  De  Vonpelt 
to  his  clean,  fresh  moss  couch,  he  said,  "Now,  me  in  Gott 
be  t'anked.  This  is  the  first  place  vhere  I  have  stretched 
myself  at  ease  since  I  have  peen  hunting  for  the  tamned 
liperties." 

I  have  seen  and  survived  the  horrors  of  the  different 
Mexican  revolutions,  changes  almost  as  fruitful  in  treach- 
ery and  unnatural  crimes  as  the  revolution  in  France.  I 
have  acted  my  part  in  these  revolutions.  My  heart  has 
sickened  at  the  sight  of  guilt  and  crime,  and  I  have  had 
my  share  in  the  general  suffering.  A  sadly  pleasing 
remembrance  remains  of  the  months  that  I  spent  with  this 
amiable  family  in  the  shelter  of  the  mountains.  Tha 
storms  of  nature  sometimes  raged  below  us  and  the  more 
terrible  storm  of  human  passions  was  passing  in  its  wrath 
over  this  beautiful  land.  I  bitterly  and  minutely 
remember  the  joys,  sufferings  and  sorrows  of  this  nar- 
row, secluded  and  amiable  circle.  But  even  these  sor- 
rows, while  they  have  left  a  mournful  recollection,  soothe 
me  in  the  remembrance.  Our  communion  had  a  kind 
of  holy  serenity.  Even  our  gaiety  was  marked  with  a  kind 
of  pensiveness.  The  natural  vivacity  of  the  young  ladies, 
changed  by  the  late  fearful  events,  had  undergone  a  com- 


In  the  Mountains  Again.  297 

plete  revolution.  Even  in  the  midst  of  their  laughter 
something  remarked  that  the  heart  was  safl.  Most  of 
these  conversations  have  passed  away  unrecorded  and  are 
remembered  only  by  Him  who  writeth  down  all  things  in 
a  book  from  which  they  cannot  be  erased.  If  you  are  a 
lover,  as  you  appear  to  be,  of  the  simplicity  of  nature,  you 
will  allow  me  a  little  more  detail  while  I  dwell  upon  the 
short  and  simple  annals  of  a  residence,  which  includes,  for 
that  time,  the  history  of  people  wholly  disconnected  from 
the  world.  They  record  the  sorrows  of  people  who  en- 
dured them  in  silence  and  without  repining.  Three  of 
them  have  passed  away  from  the  ills  of  life.  On  my  memory 
is  pictured  the  sweet  spot  where  they  lingered  and  died.  I 
see  their  graves  at  the  foot  of  their  favorite  sycamore.  I 
can  fancy  that  I  hear  the  winds  mustering  in  the  hills 
above  where  they  sleep,  and  that  I  can  see  the  shadows  of 
the  passing  clouds  flitting  over  their  lonely  graves. 

We  had  provisions  sufficient  for  a  month,  and  we  had 
plenty  of  powder  and  lead.  We  could  take  all  the  meat 
we  needed  from  the  herds  of  deer  and  cattle  that  passed 
near  us.  Fergus  had  removed  to  our  cave  all  the  remainder 
of  our  baggage  from  the  foot  of  the  mountains.  We  had 
every  article  of  the  first  necessity.  And  we  had  more 
arrangements  in  the  way  of  comforts  than  you  imagine 
with  such  a  limited  stock  of  materials.  Still  there  were 
some  luxuries  which  use  had  rendered  indispensable.  Fer- 
gus feared  nothing  and  was  obnoxious  to  no  party.  He  pro- 
posed to  undertake  an  expedition  to  Durango,  to  procure 
those  articles,  and  that  he  might  bring  us  back  the  history 
of  what  was  passing  in  the  world  from  which  we  had  fled. 
He  was  not  only  fearless,  but  faithful;  he  saw  with 
instinctive  quickness  the  views  of  others,  and  would  be  on 
his  guard.  Of  course  we  could  have  entire  confidence  in 
his  management  of  that  part  of  his  commission,  which 


298  Robert  Gordon. 

must  be  left  to  his  discretion,  and  full  persuasion  that  he 
would  commit  neither  himself  nor  us.  He  felt  himself 
honored  by  this  entire  confidence  and  undertook  his  com- 
mission with  alacrity. 

There  must  be  many  Robinson  Crusoe  arrangements,  for 
we  had  all  been  so  sick  of  murder  and  crime,  and  had  been 
so  nearly  on  the  verge  of  destruction  that  we  determined 
to  remain  here  until  the  revolution  took  on  a  more  decided 
character,  or  until  we  could  return  to  the  world  with  safety, 
or  at  least  so  long  as  this  place  would  serve  us  as  a  retreat. 
We  strengthened  our  natural  defences  by  placing  large 
square  timbers  at  the  entrance  so  as  to  admit  but  one  per- 
son at  a  time. 

We  had  plenty  of  carbines,  and  taught  the  young  ladies 
the  use  of  them.  I  complimented  them  liberally  on  their 
progress,  and  they  answered  that  the  motive  was  suffi- 
cient to  render  them  Amazons.  We  had  our  assigned 
hours  for  more  pleasant  pursuits.  We  wanted  books, 
but  we  had  drawing  paper  and  materials  for  draw- 
ing. We  had  the  most  beautiful  specimens  of  flower? 
to  decorate  our  parlor.  The  ladies  put  themselves 
to  the  task  of  learning  to  transfer  their  rich  hues  and  grace- 
ful forms  to  the  paper.  Another  part  of  their  time  was 
devoted  to  religious  exercises,  and  I  soon  learned  to  unite 
my  voice  with  theirs  in  their  beautiful  Saxon  hymns. 

Another  part  of  the  time  was  devoted  to  conversations, 
in  which  the  Saxon  gave  us  his  adventures  and  wanderings 
up  to  the  day  when,  to  use  his  invariable  phrase,  he  started 
to  hunt  after  the  tamned  liperties. 

Our  table  was  luxurious.  We  had  meat  of  course  in  the 
greatest  abundance  and  variety.  The  mountain  potato 
grew  plentifully  in  the  terraces  of  the  mountains,  and  was 
an  excellent  vegetable.  There  were  many  wild  fruits  that 
added  variety  to  our  repast.  We  could  well  dispense  with 


In  the  Mountains  Again.  299 

sugar,  for  in  almost  every  hollow  tree  was  a  swarm  of  bees, 
aoid  our  residence  flowed  with  honey,  if  not  with  milk. 
Bread,  tea  and  coffee  were  the  only  articles  of  the  first 
necessity  that  we  could  not  supply,  and  we  reserved  our 
small  stock  of  wine  for  the  wounded  father. 

Even  the  father  seemed  almost  to  forget  that  he  had  seen 
better  days,  and  to  participate  in  our  increasing  cheerful- 
ness. 

I  felt,  I  believe,  more  than  the  rest,  one  great,  bit- 
ter privation,  the  want  of  books.  To  converse  with 
friends  is  delightful,  and  it  will  stand  longer  than 
almost  anything  else.  To  converse  with  nature  is 
sublime,  but  the  eye  tires  in  this  converse  if  the 
mind  does  not.  To  converse  with  God  must  be  the 
highest,  as  it  is  the  holiest,  enjoyment.  Books  are  the  only 
calm,  quiet  and  untiring  companions,  that  we  always  meet 
again  with  the  same  pleasure  as  at  first. 

To  supply  the  want  of  these,  as  well  as  of  the  other  lit- 
tle articles,  we  proposed  to  start  Fergus  on  the  proposed 
trip  to  Durango.  He  was  to  procure  bread,  the  staff  of 
life,  and  wine,  which  as  he  said,  was  life  itself ;  and  tea  and 
coffee  for  the  physical  nature,  and  books,  the  food  of  the 
mind.  We  formed  a  variety  of  schemes  for  obtaining 
these  articles  in  safety,  and  the  result  was,  that  he  should 
go  to  Durango  and  find  a  retired  residence,  making  him- 
self as  little  known  as  possible;  that  he  should  purchase 
the  requisite  supply,  and  transport  them  on  his  horse  to  a 
convenient  distance  from  the  city,  and  secrete  them  in  a 
place  whence  he  could  convey  them  all  at  one  load  in  our 
wagon  to  our  residence. 

We  could  again  say  that  the  time  passed  both  swiftly  and 
pleasantly  in  this  rural  and  isolated  place.  The  summer, 
which,  in  that  climate  possesses  a  sky  so  bright  and  cloud- 
less, had  the  fervor  of  its  sun  so  cooled  by  the  mountain 


3oo  Robert  Gordon. 

breeze,  as  never  to  render  the  heat  uncomfortable  in  the 
shade.  We  climbed  the  wild  cliffs,  and  found  the  dells 
of  the  mountains.  The  ladies  often  amused  themselves 
with  trials  of  agility  and  daring,  which  could  easiest  scale 
a  precipice,  or  stand  with  the  firmest  head  upon  the  dizzy 
eminence  that  looked  down  upon  the  dark  caverns  below. 

How  often  for  these  amiable  and  unsophisticated  girls, 
who  felt  and  loved  nature  to  a  passion,  have  I  culled  the 
wild  flowers  and  brought  forth  all  my  little  stock  of  botan- 
ical knowledge,  and  quoted  all  my  best  remembrances  of 
poetry  in  my  own  language,  where  according  to  my  judg- 
ment, the  most  consecrated  stores  are  preserved,  a  language 
which  they  now  understood  well,  and  which  their  enun- 
ciation and  German  accent  rendered  delightful.  Not  un- 
frequently  our  thoughts,  taking  their  flight  from  the 
mountains  before  us  to  the  Eternal  Throne,  would  dwell 
in  solemn  earnestness  upon  the  wisdom,  benevolence  and 
immensity  of  that  Omnipotent  Being  who  reared  the  im- 
mense piles  in  our  view  and  our  talk  was  often  of  the  life 
to  come. 

They  were  beautiful  and  fascinating  girls,  and  as  such 
they  always  impressed  the  beholder.  But  with  them  con- 
stantly, as  I  was,  and  uniformly  treated  with  the  confiding 
tenderness  of  sisters,  I  was  conscious  of  feeling  for  them 
only  the  interest  and  attachment  of  a  brother.  I  thought 
of  them,  when  absent,  with  none  of  the  feverish  and  tumul- 
tuous sensations  with  which  I  recalled  the  memory  of 
another.  All  my  thoughts  of  them  were  in  keeping  with 
the  scene  of  our  residence;  as  tranquil  as  the  repose  of 
the  mountains,  as  bland  as  the  mountain  breeze. 

In  due  process  of  time  Fergus  returned,  and  his  return 
was  a  day  of  jubilee.  We  had  a  tea  party,  and  our  parlor 
was  decked  with  an  extraordinary  profusion  of  flowers ;  for 
Fergus  had  returned  safe  and  sound ;  had  attained  all  the 


In  the  Mountains  Again.  301 

objects  of  his  mission,  and  managed  them  with  the  wisdom 
of  a  serpent  and  the  innocence  of  the  dove.  We  had  a  good 
store  of  books,  an  ample  supply  of  wine,  and  plenty  of  tea 
and  coffee;  and  all  that  he  was  unable  to  bring  with  him 
was  deposited  in  a  place  from  whence  they  could  be  easily 
and  safely  transported  in  the  wagon.  One  consideration 
had,  unaccountably,  escaped  all  our  recollections.  We  had 
thought  nothing  of  the  essential  articles  of  dress.  To  me 
it  was  an  unimportant  omission.  To  the  Saxon,  who  was 
dainty  in  these  points,  it  was  more  important.  Bir.  to  the 
young  ladies,  who  had  never  been  called  to  stint  the  far- 
thest and  most  expensive  range  of  fancy  in  the  variety 
and  elegance  of  this  article,  to  be  confined,  week  after 
week,  to  the  casual  dress  which  they  wore  when  they  were 
captured,  I  knew  enough  of  female  nature  to  understand 
how  painfully  this  privation  must  be  felt.  They  affected 
to  consider  it  as  a  trifle,  and  we  talked  of  fig  leaves  and  the 
skins  of  animals  for  dresses.  But  I  was  perfectly  aware 
that  they  would  have  felt  some  of  those  splendid  dresses 
which  they  used  to  wear  in  Durango  no  unimportant  acces- 
sion to  their  comfort. 

We  observed  that  Fergus  seemed  rather  reluctant  to 
undo  all  his  budget,  and  that  his  countenance  bore  the 
mark  of  painful  concealment.  Such  was  his  interest  for 
us  that  little  by  little  it  all  came  out.  And  such  was  the 
terror  excited  by  this  full  disclosure  that,  so  far  from 
thinking  of  the  oversight  in  the  article  of  dress,  the  young 
ladies  were  hardly  willing  that  Fergus  should  incur  the 
exposure  of  taking  the  wagon  to  the  place  where  our  articles 
were  hidden  to  bring  them  home.  The  amount  of  his  intel- 
ligence was  this :  The  Conde  had  not  only  resigned,  but  was 
under  the  suspicion  of  having  abetted  the  attack  on  the 
royal  company  that  escorted  us.  "What  do  ye  think/' 
said  Fergus,  "was  the  first  thing  that  I  saw  stuck  on  the 


3O2  Robert  Gordon. 

posts  and  pillars,  and  at  the  corners  of  the  streets,  when  I 
entered  the  city?  Why,  God  bless  yer  honor,  just  this 
thing:  a  reward  of  five  thousand  pesos  for  yer  honor's 
head,  and  the  same  for  that  of  yer  friend,  and 
five  hundred  for  mine.  By  Holy  Saint  Patrick!  my 
hair  rose  on  end.  But,  devil  burn  them,  if  I  let  out  a 
word  that  I  was  Fergus  himself."  He  ascertained  that 
the  country  was  in  such  a  state  of  internal  discord,  and 
there  were  so  many  commencing  rebellions,  so  many  par- 
tisan skirmishes,  and  so  many  guerilla  parties,  so  many 
battles  and  massacres,  so  much  mutual  distrust,  and 
so  little  preponderance  of  any  one  party  over  the 
others  that  he  thought  us  perfectly  safe  while  we 
kept  ourselves  concealed  among  the  mountains.  Every 
one  was  too  anxious  about  the  safety  of  his  own  head 
to  think  of  earning  five  thousand  pesos  by  taking  ours. 
We  inferred,  on  the  whole,  that  we  were  in  little  danger, 
except  from  needy  and  guilty  assassins;  and  unless  many 
of  them  leagued  together,  we  felt  as  though  we  should  be 
able  to  give  a  good  account  of  them.  Our  apprehensions 
were  somewhat  quieted  by  another  consideration.  The 
general  impression  in  the  city  was  that  in  our  flight  we  had 
made  for  the  United  States,  and  as  they  had  not  heard  of 
our  arrest,  it  was  supposed  that  we  had  succeeded  in  our 
eccape.  In  his  conversation  before  the  De  Yonpelts,  all 
that  he  pretended  to  know  of  the  Conde's  affairs,  was,  that 
he  and  his  family  lived  in  profound  retirement  and  were 
seldom  seen  in  the  city. 

When  we  were  in  private  Fergus  admitted  that,  contrary 
to  my  orders,  he  had  been  at  the  palace.  "I  could  not 
keep,"  said  he,  "from  going  to  see  the  old  place  again,  and, 
indeed,  yer  honor,  I  swore  to  Isabel,  by  my  mother,  the 
last  time  I  saw  her,  that  I  would  give  her  a  little  bit  of 
information  about  yer  honor  whenever  I  could.  So  I 


In  the  Mountains  Again.  303 

made  myself  known  to  the  servants,  and  the  Conde  and  his 
lady,  and  Isabel,  and  all  came  to  see  me  in  a  private  way, 
and  they  made  much  of  me,  too,  that  they  did.  Devil  burn 
them,  how  they  came  to  think,  is  more  than  I  can  guess; 
but  Dorothy,  that  ye  used  to  learn  grammar,  and  all  the 
Conde's  people  beside,  knew  well  where  yer  honor  was, 
and  how  we  have  spent  our  time,  and  all  about  us  here. 
Isabel  said  but  little  before  the  rest  of  them.  Ay,  but  I 
saw  the  jewel  alone;  and  then  she  asked  me  such  a  heap 
of  questions,  and  shed  so  many  tears,  and  inquired  how 
we  all  lived  here  ?  And  so  I  told  her,  'as  thick  as  three  in 
a  bed/  'Ay !'  says  she,  'Fergus,  I  expect  so.  But  it's  not 
the  decent  thing  for  young  ladies  to  live  together  in  a  cave, 
and  to  run  about  the  mountains  with  a  young  man.  Ye 
may  tell  yer  master  that  I  think  so,  too/  Says  I,  'God 
bless  yer  ladyship !  they  are  as  sweet,  sober  and  kind  lit- 
tle bodies  as  ye  can  find  on  the  earth,  as  modest  as  nuns 
and  as  pretty  as  angels.'  'Why,  really,  Fergus/  says  she, 
'ye  have  the  gift  of  gab,  and  one  would  think  ye  were 
smitten  too.  The  prettier  they  are  the  less  ought  they 
to  behave  in  this  way/  So  I  sees  which  way  the  wind  sets, 
and  so  I  says,  'God  love  yer  ladyship,  they  pray  and  sing 
like  nuns,  and  I  dare  say,  never  think  a  bad  thought.  And 
for  my  master,  the  girls  call  him  brother,  and  I  am  sure  he 
loves  them  only  as  dear  sisters.  But  God  love  yer  lady- 
ship, he  loves  ye  after  another  sort  of  a  fashion,  and  bet- 
ter, I'll  swear  than  he  loves  his  own  eyes/  Upon  this  she 
makes  up  her  mouth  this  way  and  smiles,  and  says,  'Do  ye 
think  so,  Fergus  ?'  'Indeed  I  do,'  says  I,  'for  he  sometimes 
stops  short  and  looks  toward  yer  quarter,  and  he  looks  big 
and  solemn,  this  way,  and  out  comes  the  hard  sigh.  Ay ! 
yer  ladyship,  I  know  what  all  that  means/  And  she  says, 
'Fergus,  ye  have  learned  to  flatter.  Yer  master  and  the 
young  ladies  have  had  too  much  of  that  talk  about  brother 


304  Robert  Gordon. 

and  sisters.  Ye  can  tell  them  that  they  are  in  no  danger 
at  all.  Persuade  them  to  come  away  and  live  with  me,  and 
I  will  answer  for  them.  That  will  be  better  and  safer, 
and  more  decent  too,  than  to  live  in  that  cave  and  wander 
about  with  a  young  man,  that,  after  all,  is  no  brother  of 
theirs.'  'But,'  says  I,  'yer  ladyship,  would  ye  have 
them  leave  their  poor  old  lame  father  ?'  ' Ay !  that,  indeed,' 
says  she,  'is  a  thing  I  don't  know  how  to  manage.'  Then, 
God  forgive  me,  I  runs  on  again  to  tell  her  ladyship  that 
I  could  swear  that  ye  never  thought  of  anybody,  except 
in  a  brotherly  way,  but  her  ladyship,  and  that  I  was  sure 
ye  loved  her  better  than  the  light  of  heaven.  And  that 
pleased  her,  yer  honor,  and  she  says  a  thousand  and  one 
kind  things  about  ye,  and  asked  all  how  yer  honor  looked 
and  talked,  and  all  that.  Still  the  kindest  thing  about 
ye  was  said  last,  and  the  big  round  pearls  stood  in  her 
glistening  eyes  when  I  was  about  to  come  away;  and  then 
she  says,  'Fergus,  swear  to  me,  that  ye  won't  tell  him  that 
I  have  said  a  word  to  ye  about  him.  Say  nothing  about  it 
to  anybody.'  'Ay !'  says  I,  'I  am  as  close  as  a  dead  man.' 
And  then  she  almost  showed  a  heart  to  kiss  me  when  I 
came  away." 

The  articles  that  had  been  overlooked  in  Fergus's  mis- 
sion to  Durango  were  soon  supplied,  and  in  a  way  which 
convinced  us  at  once  that  we  had  friends  in  the  city,  and 
that  by  them,  at  least,  the  place  and  circumstances  of  our 
retreat  were  well  known.  As  we  went  out  of  our  dwelling 
a  few  mornings  after  Fergus's  return,  we  found  a  large 
package  labeled  in  Spanish  for  the  Misses  Vonpelt.  It  hap- 
pened to  be  on  the  day  in  which  Fergus  returned  with  his 
•wagon  load  of  goods  from  the  place  where  he  had  con- 
cealed them,  near  Durango.  Thus  all  our  wants  were  sup- 
plied at  one  time,  for,  on  opening  the  package,  it  was  found 
to  contain  every  requisite  article  of  a  lady's  wardrobe  for 


In  the  Mountains  Again.  305 

the  three  young  ladies.  In  the  same  package  were  changes 
of  dress  for  De  Vonpelt  and  me.  This  ample  and  expen- 
sive package  was  the  gift  of  the  father  of  my  former  pupil, 
Dorothea,  at  her  request.  It  evinced,  on  her  part,  a  consid- 
erate generosity,  a  noble  use  of  opulence,  and  a  kindness  of 
heart,  which  struck  us  all  with  a  deep  feeling  of  gratitude. 
De  Vonpelt  was  delighted  with  feeling  himself  once  more 
clad  as  formerly,  and  to  see  his  daughters  looking  as  they 
had  in  Durango.  He  rubbed  his  hands,  and  exclaimed, 
"Now,  mein  Gott,  if  this  is  not  what  I  have  read  in  the 
Pibles,  how  the  prophet  vas  fed  by  de  rafens !"  There  was 
a  letter  in  Spanish,  along  with  the  package.  It  informed 
us  that  to  a  few  friends  the  place  and  circumstances  of  our 
retreat  were  well  known;  but  that  we  need  have  no  appre- 
hensions from  that  knowledge,  for  that  those  friends  would 
only  avail  themselves  of  it  to  put  all  others  on  the  wrong 
track;  that  it  was  understood  that  the  things  sent  us  must 
be  indispensable  to  our  comfort,  and  that  it  was  hoped  that 
we  should  use  them  as  the  giver  would  have  done  had  situa- 
tions been  reversed.  It  was  remarked  that  it  was  wholly 
unnecessary  to  inform  us  how  the  giver  came  by  this  knowl- 
edge of  our  retreat,  and  all  that  it  concerned  us  to  know, 
was,  that  our  secret  was  perfectly  safe  with  them.  It  was 
hoped  that  the  times  would  soon  become  tranquil  and  safe ; 
that  we  should  get  effectually  cured  of  our  patriotic  fever, 
return  under  a  general  amnesty,  and  everything  go  on  as 
formerly.  A  few  remarks  at  the  close  excited  in  me  the 
deepest  sorrow  and  regret.  The  young  ladies  read  the 
letter  first,  and  I  saw  by  the  change  in  their  countenances 
that  they  had  read  something  which  had  inflicted  the  keen- 
est anguish.  They  handed  it  to  me.  In  a  postscript  was 
the  following :  "The  friends  of  the  Misses  Vonpelt  have  but 
one  opinion  about  the  intercourse  between  them  and  their 
former  teacher.  They  can  return  with  perfect  safety  to 


306  Robert  Gordon. 

Durango  at  any  time.     As  well  as  for  his  reputation  as 
for  theirs,  they  are  earnestly  requested  to  do  so." 

As  much  as  I  rejoiced  in  this  addition  to  the  comfort  of 
these  young  lades,  so  much  was  I  grieved  with  this  cruel 
intimation  at  the  close  of  the  letter,  otherwise  so  consider- 
ate and  kind,  I  tasked  all  my  powers  to  explain  it  away  and 
account  for  their  impression,  on  the  ground  that  some  gos- 
siping spy  had  invisibly  pried  into  our  privacies  and  mis- 
represented the  character  of  our  sentiments  and  our  inter- 
course. The  blow,  I  saw,  had  taken  effect,  and  they  were 
struck  to  the  heart.  It  was  past  all  my  skill  to  heal  the 
wound  in  the  slightest  degree.  That  they  could  fly  from 
danger  to  their  father  and  to  me,  and  in  avoiding  exposure 
of  one  kind,  subject  themselves  to  pain  and  exposure,  so 
keenly  felt  by  all  modest  women,  of  a  different  and  more 
appalling  kind,  seemed  to  be  a  thought  not  to  be  endured. 
The  more  deeply  they  felt  the  perfect  innocence  and  sim- 
plicity of  our  intercourse,  the  more  bitterly  they  felt  the 
cruelty  of  these  suspicions.  "There  is  no  way  from  evil," 
they  said.  "The  very  attempt  to  fly  from  one  danger  only 
plunges  us  into  a  worse.  Whatever  there  may  be  for  you, 
there  is  no  refuge  for  me  but  the  grave.  Of  all  the  evils 
that  we  have  yet  encountered,  calumny  is  the  worst."  I 
urged  upon  them  the  necessity  of  relying  upon  the  inward 
consciousness  of  integrity.  I  clearly  discovered  their  una- 
bated regard  for  me,  and  their  fondness  for  the  unre- 
strained frankness  and  gaiety  of  our  conversations,  walks 
and  amusements.  Their  eyes  were  opened,  and  seeing  the 
light  in  which  others,  especially  ladies  of  their  own  age  and 
condition,  viewed  this  intercourse,  they  began  to  contem- 
plate it  with  shame  and  fear  for  themselves.  The  charm  of 
their  walks  and  conversations,  the  confiding  naivete  of 
sisters  in  their  whole  relation  with  me  were  laid  aside. 
There  was  now  restraint,  distance  and  painful  blushes 


In  the  Mountains  Again.  307 

where  there  had  formerly  been  nothing  but  the  unsuspicious 
confidence  of  man  before  the  fall. 

Fergus  had  unknowingly  inflicted  another  wound,  for  he 
had  carelessly  given  them  to  understand  that  in  his  trip 
to  Durango  he  had  been  at  the  palace,  and  they  had  finally 
drawn  from  him  all  the  conversation  with  Isabel.  They 
saw  that  she  was  impressed  upon  this  subject  in  the  same 
manner  as  Dorothea.  They  had  always  regarded  her  as  a 
model,  her  opinions  upon  all  subjects  as  oracular  and  her 
decisions  as  merciful  and  just.  "So,  then/'  they  said,  "if 
we  survive  danger,  we  can  never  hope  to  survive  shame." 
"Why  not,  then,"  I  cheerfully  asked,  "why  not  remain 
here  as  long  as  we  live?  We  know  that  we  are  innocent. 
We  can  here  appeal  to  God  and  our  consciences,  and  so 
long  as  we  are  all  satisfied  with  one  another  why  need  we 
regard  what  the  world  says?"  To  all  this  they  replied  by 
asking  if  it  were  not  better  to  follow  the  advice  and  return 
to  Durango  ?  "Mein  Gott !"  cried  the  father  in  an  agony. 
"Yes,  go,  if  you  wish  to  part  from  your  old  lame  father 
forever.  But  I  hope  you  will  have  the  goodness  to  get  this 
young  man  to  strike  off  my  head  with  his  sabre  first.  He 
is  a  good  young  man,  I  grant  you,  and  innocent  of  all  the 
tamned  lies  that  these  gossiping  girls  talk  about  you.  But 
he  will  not  be  hurt  with  me  for  saying  that  he  can  never  be 
to  me  in  place  of  my  tear  girls."  This  statement  was  con- 
clusive and  final,  and  they  never  again  resumed  the  subject 
of  leaving  their  father. 

The  father's  wound,  with  the  coming  of  autumn,  and 
with  the  visible  chagrin  and  increasing  silence  and  dejec- 
tion of  the  daughters,  grew  worse.  Hitherto  he  had  regu- 
larly hobbled  his  two  or  three  turns,  morning  and  evening, 
across  the  little  plain.  When  fatigued  he  sat  down  on  a 
bench,  with  its  mossed  cushion,  purposely  prepared  for  his 
repose  under  the  sycamore,  and  appeared  to  enjoy  our 


308  Robert  Gordon. 

promenade,  as  we  gaily  tripped  back  and  forth.  All  at 
once  he  complained  of  the  excessive  fatigue  of  this  exer- 
tion, and  was  only  lifted  to  the  door  to  see  us  walk,  and  to 
contemplate  the  rising  and  the  setting  sun.  Fergus  would 
take  him  in  his  arms  and  carry  him  about,  handling  him 
as  tenderly  as  a  child.  We  all  redoubled  our  exertions. 
The  daughters,  at  my  suggestion,  not  only  suppressed 
every  appearance  of  dejection,  but  assumed  a  painful  and 
constrained  gaiety. 

It  was  but  too  evident  that  these  deep  evils  of  the  heart, 
coming  so  together,  involved  with  the  decline  of  their 
father  their  own  sorrow  and  decline.  Jeannette  had  always 
seemed  to  me  the  most  sensitive  of  the  three.  It  is  im- 
possible to  measure  the  effect  of  sorrow  on  different  natures 
by  any  other  scale  than  actual  experience.  The  buoyant 
natures  of  the  two  younger  sank  first.  The  roses  on  their 
cheeks  faded  away.  Our  charming  walks  among  the  moun- 
tains, where  we  talked  with  flowing  heart,  contemplated  the 
glorious  spirit-stirring  scenery,  and  courted  the  mountain 
breeze,  the  reckless  laugh,  the  exuberant  gaiety,  that  was 
delightful  with  the  passing  trifles,  all  were  gone.  When 
the  father  took  his  daily  sleep  we  sometimes  repeated  the 
walks  and  mounted  the  same  heights  and  contemplated  the 
same  scenes  as  before.  But  they  walked  slowly  and  by 
themselves,  and  were  restrained  and  distant  in  permitting 
the  common  courtesies  that  they  used  rather  to  court.  A 
slight  fermentation  changes  the  nature  of  the  purest  wine. 
A  little  change  in  the  mind  and  circumstances  changes 
what  was  delightful  to  a  source  of  pain.  When  I  saw  that 
I  was  actually  a  restraint  upon  them,  I  told  them  that  they 
had  enough  to  encounter  beside  the  pain  of  my  presence, 
and  that  if  they  were  afraid  of  me  or  doubted  me  or 
deemed  that  my  presence  was  'doubtful  in  its  influence 
upon  their  reputation,  I  would  leave  them  and  seek  for; 


In  the  Mountains  Again.  309 

myself  a  more  solitary  retreat.  "Oh,  no !"  they  said,  with 
one  voice,  "that  would  kill  us  all  at  one  blow.  What 
could  we  do  without  you?  What  need  we  care  what  they 
say  of  us  ?  All  our  world  is  here." 

The  autumns  of  this  region,  especially  in  the  mountains, 
are  inexpressibly  delightful.  The  azure  of  the  sky  is 
charming.  The  coolness  and  dryness  of  the  atmosphere 
removes  the  languor  of  summer.  We  had  in  the  summer 
often  anticipated  the  coming  of  autumn  with  delight.  At 
last  the  sober  autumn,  so  desired,  came.  The  thousand 
wild  fruits,  with  which  our  table  was  to  be  decked,  were 
matured.  The  mellow  and  impressive  operation  of  autumn 
upon  the  mountain  scenery  was  produced.  We  experi- 
enced the  invigorating  influence  of  a  keen  and  frosty  air 
by  night,  which  we  had  hoped  would  have  given  such  a 
delightful  aspect  to  the  blaze  of  the  domestic  fire,  that 
would  illume  our  cave.  Fergus  produced  the  fruits,  the 
smoking  coffee,  the  venison,  the  parso,  and  he  took  the 
feeble  Saxon  in  his  arms,  like  a  child,  and  placed  him  on 
a  kind  of  rude  but  comfortable  sofa,  made  soft  with  moss, 
and  spread  with  buffalo  robes.  But  the  expected  joy 
would  not  come.  We  tried  the  aweet  hymn,  but  the  voices 
of  the  daughters  sank  away,  and  instead  of  hearing 
the  prayers  and  the  hymn,  we  had  only  silent  tears, 
"Mein  Gott,"  said  the  father,  sobbing  to  himself,  "why 
will  ye  cry  und  preak  my  heart?  Fergus,  give  me 
that  pottle  and  that  cup.  Here  is  to  'Faderland/  and  let 
us  be  comfortable."  The  very  effort  to  take  his  customary 
cup  of  wine  showed  his  weakness,  and  after  a  few  vain 
efforts  to  parry,  or  to  hide  the  thrusts  of  nature,  and  pass 
them  off  for  drowsiness,  he  requested  to  be  carried  to  his 
bed.  The  paleness  of  his  daughters  seemed  to  say,  "Our 
father  will  never  share  this  fire  with  us  again."  Two  of 
them,  though  not  so  helpless,  appeared  as  deep  in  their 


3io  Robert  Gordon. 

decline  as  the  father.  He  never,  after  that,  arose,  except 
to  be  dressed  and  managed  as  an  infant,  while  the  inde- 
fatigable Fergus  beat  up  and  prepared  his  couch. 

As  the  frame  of  De  Vonpelt  was  thus  imperceptibly  wast- 
ing away,  nothing  on  our  part  was  spared  to  rekindle  his 
hopes  or  soothe  his  decline,  which  friendship  or  filial  ten- 
derness could  invent  or  offer.  I  had  been  lately  more 
assiduous  in  my  habits  of  wandering  in  the  mountains, 
partly  with  a  view  of  seeking  something  new,  in  the  way  of 
aliment,  to  suit  the  ever  varying  fancies  of  a  sick  man's 
appetite,  partly  to  throw  off  the  debilitating  gloom  result- 
ing from  breaking  off  my  former  active  habits,  and  spend- 
ing the  greater  part  of  my  time  with  the  invalid,  and  partly 
to  indulge  in  the  contemplation  of  nature  in  her  most  im- 
posing features.  My  excursions,  since  the  sickness  of  the 
family,  had  been  short  and  confined  to  the  immediate  vicin- 
ity of  our  retreat.  One  morning,  after  I  had  seen  De  Von- 
pelt sink  into  a  refreshing  sleep,  and  his  daughters  appar- 
ently more  cheerful  than  I  had  seen  them  for  some  time, 
I  determined  to  extend  my  ramble  beyond  its  accustomed 
range.  I  took  my  gun,  and  having  lighted  a  trunk  of  fat 
pine  with  fire,  whose  ruddy  flame  and  smouldering  smoke 
might  serve  as  a  distant  beacon  to  guide  my  returning 
steps,  I  sallied  out  alone,  and  climbed  from  crag  to 
crag,  along  the  rugged  spur  of  the  Cordilleras  until  I  had 
extended  my  walk  to  a  great  distance  from  the  cave  and 
saw  from  my  elevation  far  below  me  the  smoke  of  my 
beacon-fire  lifting  its  cylindrical  pillars  aloft  amidst  the 
blue,  still  atmosphere  of  the  mountains.  What  a  spec- 
tacle arrayed  itself  below  me !  How  pure  and  elastic  the 
air,  which,  perhaps,  mortal  had  never  breathed  before. 
Far  away  below  me  the  boundless  plain  of  the  prairie  slept 
like  the  ocean  in  a  calm.  Above  me  towered,  pile  above 
pile,  those  mighty  masses  which  seemed  the  ancient  battle- 


In  the  Mountains  Again.  311 

ments  of  heaven.  I  stood  wrapped  in  profound  medita- 
tion. My  thoughts  expanded,  my  imagination  soared  even 
beyond  the  immense  prospect  below  me.  There  is  an  in- 
spiration in  mountain  scenery  at  once  soothing  and  ele- 
vating, the  happiest  mixture  of  poesy  and  devotion. 
Amidst  this  tranquil  enhancement  of  meditation  and  rev- 
erie I  was  suddenly  startled  by  the  report  of  a  musket  at  a 
considerable  distance  above  me.  The  reverberations  from 
a  thousand  caverns  became  fainter  and  fainter,  until  echo 
herself  seemed  exhausted  with  her  own  magic  mimicry. 
"Can  this/'  thought  I,  'liave  proceeded  from  the  hands  of 
man  ?  Are  these  sublime  and  remote  solitudes  peopled  by 
other  exiles,  who  have,  like  us,  toiled  in  benevolence  for 
our  fellow  men  and  been  driven  for  a  refuge  to  the  caverns 
of  the  mountains?  Or  is  it  the  precursor  of  a  volcano, 
laboring  to  give  vent  to  those  central  fires  which  these 
ancient  mountains  have  smothered  for  ages?" 

I  was  suspended  in  doubt,  wonder  and  astonishment. 
I  determined,  however,  to  make  my  way  in  the  direction 
of  the  report  and  attempt  to  unravel  the  mystery.  With 
great  difficulty  and  not  without  danger  of  being  precip- 
itated into  some  of  those  deep  ravines  which  had  been 
washed  out  by  mountain  torrents,  I  reached  the  summit  of 
a  high  peak  which  commanded  an  extensive  view.  At  its 
base,  and  not  more  than  fifty  paces  from  where  I  stood,  I 
discovered  the  mouth  of  a  cavern  and  a  Spanish  musket 
standing  by  the  side  of  it.  While  I  was  surveying  this 
new  object  of  wonder,  a  man  slowly  stepped  from  the  cave. 
He  was  apparently  about  forty,  brown  and  swarthy,  with 
untrimmed  beard,  which  was  very  long,  and  he  was  clad  in 
a  dress  of  leather.  But  there  was  the  dignity  of  self- 
estimation  and  of  manly  firmness  in  his  manner,  and  a 
searching  glance  with  his  keen,  black  eye,  which  struck 
me  with  awe.  Reflection  taught  me  in  a  moment  that  this 


312  Robert  Gordon. 

was  no  ordinary  man.  He  had  not  yet  espied  me.  He 
stood  for  a  moment  seemingly  wrapped  in  profound  and 
melancholy  thought.  As  he  turned  his  eye  toward  the  spot 
where  I  stood  he  instantly  grasped  his  musket  and  cried 
out  in  a  tone  of  authority,  "Qui  en  vive  ?'  "A  friend/'  I 
answered  in  the  same  language.  He  fixed  his  eye  sternly 
and  steadily  upon  me,  holding  his  piece  in  a  position  for 
instant  use  if  inspection  should  afford  the  occasion  for  it. 
"Hold,"  I  cried.  "Whoever  you  are,  or  whatever  may  be 
your  motive  for  seeking  this  wild  asylum,  I  came  not  to 
spy  you  out,  or  disturb  the  solitude  of  your  retreat.  My 
approach  to  this  place  was  the  result  of  pure  accident.  As 
I  come  with  no  hostile  intent,  no  disposition  to  break  in 
upon  the  sanctity  of  your  refuge,  or  pry  into  the  mystery 
with  which  you  have  seen  fit  to  surround  yourself,  there 
can  be  no  ground  of  hostility  between  us."  "I  took  you," 
said  he,  "for  one  of  those  miserable  hirelings  of  despotism, 
who,  lured  by  the  reward  offered  for  my  head,  had  scented 
out  the  haunt  of  a  patriot  exile."  "I  am,"  I  returned, 
"like  you,  an  exile  myself,  and  like  you  a  price  is  set  on  my 
head.  I  am  an  Anglo-American  and  lately  an  adherent  of 
Morelos,  and  in  the  thickest  against  the  satellites  of  des- 
potism. You  may  have  heard  of  the  unfortunate  battle  of 
Palos  Blancos.  Defeated  in  that  fatal  field,  with  a  sick 
friend,  I  am  an  outlaw,  and  a  tenant  of  nature  in  these 
wild  mountains/'  The  musket  dropped  from  his  hand  as 
if  he  had  been  palsy  struck.  "A  companion  of  Morelos," 
cried  he,  "and  an  Anglo-American !  And  now  I  discover 
from  your  accent  you  are  of  English  origin.  I  love  even 
the  language  in  which  Washington  and  his  great  com- 
patriots spoke.  That  dialect  is  the  consecrated  idiom  of 
freedom  of  independent  and  noble  thinking.  The 
day  will  come,  when  over  the  globe,  he  who  shall  speak  that 
language  will  claim  the  same  exemptions  and  immunities, 


In  the  Mountains  Again.  313 

in  consequence,  which  he  demanded  in  the  ancient  days, 
who  said,  'I  am  a  Eoman  citizen.'  There  is  an  air  of  can- 
dor in  your  countenance  which  inspires  confidence.  Ap- 
proach !"  I  descended  the  peak  and  approached  the  mouth 
of  the  cavern.  "Before  you  enter  this  sanctuary  of  an 
exile,"  said  he,  holding  out  his  hand,  "pledge  me  a  sol- 
dier's honor  and  a  patriot's  faith  that  you  will  never  re- 
veal the  secret  of  this  interview,  at  least  until  Mexico  is 
free.  My  name  among  men  was  once  of  too  much  import 
to  become  even  now  the  theme  of  a  passing  tale."  I 
grasped  his  hand  and  gave  him  the  most  sacred  watchword 
of  the  patriots.  "Ah!"  said  he,  embracing  me,  "dear  is 
that  word.  Come  in  and  see  the  retirement  of  a  patriot 
soldier."  The  cavern  was  deep  and  gloomy,  a  perfect  con- 
trast to  that  where  dwelt  my  declining  associates,  and  with- 
out even  the  requisite  accommodations  for  the  most  hearty 
soldier.  But  the  tenant  had  a  mind  that  had  converted 
the  stone  floor  to  a  couch  of  down.  "You  see  before  you," 
said  he,  "a  person  who  was  once  one  of  the  most  distin- 
guished natives  of  this  country,  so  delightful  and  so  fa- 
vored of  nature.  I  might  have  shared  in  the  guilty  hon- 
ors and  distinctions  of  its  oppressors.  But  my  heart  told 
me,  even  from  a  child,  that  God  and  nature  intended  that 
this  great  country  should  be  free.  I  was  one  among  the 
first  who  disdainfully  shook  our  chains  in  the  face  of  our 
oppressors.  I  was  among  the  first  to  join  in  the  effort 
to  cast  them  from  us.  While  there  was  a  blow  to  be  struck 
I  was  not  inactive.  After  the  fall  of  Hidalgo,  the  strug- 
gle was  kept  up  by  successive  chiefs,  who  rallied  round  the 
standard  of  independence,  a  motley  multitude,  dependent 
for  subsistence  upon  their  swords.  We  carried  on  a  wild 
guerilla  warfare.  But  the  superior  discipline  of  the  royal 
troops,  and  the  corruption  and  unprincipled  ignorance  of 
men  who  had  been  brutalized  in  long  and  effeminate  bond- 


314  Robert  Gordon. 

age,  and  who,  having  broken  their  chains,  became  wild  and 
unfeeling  tyrants  in  their  turn  and  practised  indiscrim- 
inate slaughter  upon  defenceless  and  unoffending  families, 
and  spread  horror  and  dismay  in  their  path,  caused  our 
army  to  dissolve  like  snow  in  the  sunbeams.  Our  hopes 
revived  for  a  moment  when  Mina  came,  like  a  flaming 
meteor  from  the  north,  with  a  handful  of  brave  and 
devoted  heroes,  checked  the  successful  march  of  oppression. 
But  his  brilliant  career  was  cut  short,  and  he  was  borne 
down,  the  victim  of  treachery  and  his  own  valor.  After 
the  fall  of  this  great  man  a  few  daring  spirits  still  clung 
to  the  cause,  desperate  as  it  was.  We  retreated  to  a  fort- 
ress apparently  impregnable;  but  were  followed,  and  at- 
tacked by  overwhelming  numbers.  My  tongue  falters 
even  now,  in  making  the  humiliating  confession,  but 
very  few  beside  myself  escaped  the  carnage  of  that 
day.  Proscribed  an  outlaw  in  the  land  of  my  fathers, 
banished  from  kindred,  and  every  charity  and  endearment 
of  life,  we  had/  no  other  resource  than  to  forswear  our 
kind.  A  price  being  set  upon  our  heads,  we  passed  from 
place  to  place  in  various  disguises,  more  than  once  escap- 
ing, as  it  seemed,  only  by  a  miracle.  I  retreated  from 
mountain  to  mountain,  until  I  buried  myself  in  this  cav- 
ern. I  have  been  offered  any  of  the  guilty  honors  or  places 
in  the  gift  of  Ferdinand  VII.,  if  I  would  abandon  the 
cause  of  my  country.  But  in  the  free  air  of  these  moun- 
tains and  in  the  hearing  of  the  Divine  ear,  I  have  sworn  an 
oath  on  my  soul,  never  to  make  any  compromise  with  op- 
pression. No,  I  will  give  this  flesh  to  the  vultures  or  the 
wolves  and  these  bones  to  bleach  unburied  upon  these  crags 
ere  I  ever  return  to  man  until  there  is  some  prospect  that 
my  country  may  yet  be  free."  He  paused,  as  it  seemed, 
from  irrepressible  agitation.  I  attempted  to  raise  his 
hopes,  and  to  present  brighter  views  of  the  cause  than  he 


In  the  Mountains  Again.  315 

seemed  to  entertain.  I  assured  him  that  in  every  land, 
virtuous  and  free  minds  not  only  sympathized  with  his 
country,  but  anticipated,  with  the  confidence  of  prophecy, 
her  ultimate  emancipation,  and  the  period  when  the  sun 
which  now  ever  sets  upon  the  slaves  of  Spain  in  the  New 
World,  shall  illumine  in  his  glorious  path  none  but  freemen. 

"When  Chimborazo  over  earth,  air,  wave, 
Shall  glare  with  Titan  eye,  and  see  no  slave.** 

I  then  gave  him  a  brief  detail  of  the  melancholy  circum- 
stances which  detained  me  in  the  sick  family  of  De  Von- 
pelt,  and  recommended  to  him,  in  waiting  the  time  to 
strike  for  independence  again,  to  seek  a  temporary  asylum 
in  the  United  States.  "No,"  said  he,  "I  love,  I  venerate 
that  country ;  but  will  never  fly  from  my  own.  The  stran- 
ger knoweth  not,  and  cannot  know,  what  I  have  been 
obliged  to  endure  in  coming  here.  My  heart  bleeds  at 
the  recollection;  no  sympathy  can  avail  me.  But  if  you 
have  mistaken  the  despondency  of  a  father  torn  from  his 
children,  of  a  husband  torn  from  the  bosom  of  the  wife  of 
his  youth,  for  despair  of  the  cause  of  freedom,  you  have 
misinterpreted  my  feelings.  Seven  millions  of  men  that 
inhale  such  an  air,  and  see  such  mountains,  can  never  be 
held  in  final  bondage.  The  spirit  of  freedom  may  be  at 
this  moment  pressed  down  as  under  the  incumbent  weight 
of  mountains,  but  the  subterranean  fires  will  ultimately 
burst  forth.  Let  our  oppressors  beware  of  the  explosion. 
From  what  quarter  we  are  to  expect  redress  it  is  impossible 
to  foresee.  But  the  day  must,  and  will,  come.  Great 
God !  shall  a  despotism  as  icy  and  as  eternal  as  the  snows 
upon  the  mountains,  forever  blast  this  loveliest  of  crea- 
tion ?  No.  The  generation  that  is  now  rising  is  tearing  off 
the  veil  with  which  despotism  and  priest  craft  has  hood- 


316  Robert  Gordon. 

winked  them,  and  are  beginning  to  feel  that  they  are  men. 
While  such  men  still  breathe  in  Mexico  as  Guerrero,  Bravo 
and  Santa  Anna,  the  cause  cannot  utterly  perish."  For  my 
part,  my  heart  kindled  again  at  the  tone  in  which  he  spoke, 
and  in  which  he  gave  me  the  details  of  various  scenes  where 
he  had  been  engaged.  Humanity  and  friendship  called 
back  my  thoughts  to  the  place  from  which  I  came.  I  de- 
scribed the  condition  and  circumstances  of  the  amiable  and 
suffering  family  in  which  I  dwelt.  The  simple  narrative 
of  their  sufferings  proved  that  this  man,  apparently  of 
steel  and  rock,  this  man  who  seemed  to  have  no  sympathies 
but  with  his  country,  had  a  heart  of  the  quickest  and  ten- 
derest  sensibility.  He  lamented  bitterly  that  he  could  do 
nothing  for  them.  "It  may  be/'  said  he,  "that  they  and 
you  will  hear  from  me  again.  I  am  well  informed  of  what 
is  passing  in  that  world  below  us.  I  am  waiting  for  the 
moment  to  rally  the  friends  of  independence  round  her 
standard  once  more.  If  we  should  ever  gain  our  freedom, 
they  will  then  see  if  I  am  not  the  friend  of  the  friendless, 
the  deliverer  of  the  oppressed  and  the  hope  of  such  people 
as  those  with  whom  you  sojourn/'  I  viewed  the  singular; 
man  who  stood  before  me;  awe-struck  at  his  manner  and 
the  tone  of  his  voice.  "Such  are  the  extraordinary  men," 
thought  I,  "whom  Providence  raises  up  and  qualifies  for 
such  emergencies."  I  ventured,  indirectly,  to  ask  him  his 
name.  "Your  curiosity  on  this  point,"  said  he,  "does  not 
dishonor  me.  I  doubt  not  that  you  are  a  man  of  honor, 
and  that  I  may  safely  trust  you.  If  this  great  land  should 
bequeathe  a  heritage  of  bondage  to  the  generation  to 
come,  I  should  not  desire  that  my  name  should  reach  pos- 
terity, and  I  should  choose  to  live  here  alone,  with  my  God 
and  my  conscience,  and  that  this  cavern  should  be  my 
tomb.  But  if,  as  I  hope,  a  more  happy  destiny  awaits  it,  if 
hereafter  the  corrupt  and  blinding  despotism  of  this  period 


In  the  Mountains  Again.  317 

should  be  succeeded  by  a  young  and  virtuous  republic,  true 
to  its  own  glory  and  the  sacred  principles  of  liberty,  and 
flourishing  in  all  the  arts  of  peace  and  humanity,  I  trust 
that  my  name  will  not  be  utterly  forgotten.  You  will  then 
remember  this  interview.  You  will  welcome  your  pro- 
scribed friends  to  all  the  succor  and  protection  that  Guade- 
loupe Victoria  can  bestow.  Eemember,  that  he  predicted 
the  future  happiness  and  glory  of  his  country."  "Vic- 
toria !"  cried  I,  "am  I  then  in  the  presence  of  that  man." 
He  modestly  checked  me,  reminding  me  that  we  had  both 
forfeited  our  names  among  the  stars.  He  turned  the  con- 
versation again  to  the  sick  and  suffering  family,  to  which, 
I  told  him,  I  felt  it  was  time  for  me  to  return.  When  in- 
vited to  honor  that  family  with  his  presence,  he  remarked, 
that  he  could  bring  them  nothing  but  unavailing  sym- 
pathy, and  that  it  seemed  necessary  for  him  to  see  no  more 
scenes  to  soften  the  heart.  "Patriots,"  said  he,  "in  these 
times  must  renounce  humanity  and  act  as  simple  intelli- 
gences, alike  above  fear,  interest  or  feeling.  If  the  time 
should  ever  arrive  when  I  can  wipe  away  a  single  tear  from 
the  eyes  of  your  distressed  friends,  then  I  will  come  to  visit 
them  and  you."  I  turned  and  left  him  with  profound 
regret  and  admiration. 


318  Robert  Gordon. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

THREE  GRAVES. 

"The  clay  was  moistened,  not  with  water,  lut  with  tears" 

As  De  Vonpelt's  strength  declined,  as  his  body  wasted 
away  until  the  skin  of  his  once  round  figure  could  almost 
be  wrapped  about  him,  his  sensibility  and  the  powers  of  his 
mind  made  themselves  more  conspicuous.  Before  his  girls 
he  always  spoke  cheerfully,  prophesying  the  return  of  good 
times  and  the  chances  of  their  shortly  being  allowed  an  un- 
molested departure  for  England  or  the  United  States. 
But  his  innate  sincerity  always  manifested  itself  through 
his  unwonted  shifts  at  disguise.  And  the  third  day  of  his 
confinement  to  his  couch,  while  his  girls  had  retired,  I 
went  to  his  bed  at  his  request,  and  I  saw  the  tears  streaming 
down  his  cheeks.  "Mein  Gott  forpit,"  said  he,  "that  you 
should  wrong  me,  and  think  that  I  am  afraid  to  die,  or  that 
I  should  have  the  fears  of  you.  But  it  is  a  tamned  pad 
world !  My  girls  are  as  harmless  as  lambs,  and  that  you 
well  know.  But  the  world  will  speak  against  them  now. 
What  will  they  say  about  them  when  their  poor  old  fader 
is  gone?  Mein  Gott,  it  goes  to  my  heart,  to  see  them 
droop  and  look  so  pale.  That  would  kill  me  if  nothing 
else.  The  people  are  not  fit  for  the  tamned  liperties,  and 
they  will  call  my  girls  pad  names  when  my  bones  moulder. 


Three  Graves.  319 

When  I  am  dead  you  will  tell  them  that  I  bid  them  not 
cry.  You  send  them  off  to  your  country  as  fast  as  you 
can,  and  the  first  scoundrel  that  speaks  against  them  you 
kill !  Mein  Saviour,  forgive  me !  But  my  bones  would 
not  rest  in  their  grave  if  people  should  speak  against 
my  tear  girls.  Swear  that  you  will  do  this,  and  De  Von- 
pelt  will  die  in  peace."  It  will  readily  be  supposed  I 
promised  all  that  he  desired. 

It  was  only  four  days  after  the  father  was  con- 
fined to  his  couch  before  Etta,  naturally  the  gayest  of  the 
three,  was  confined  to  hers  also.  We  moved  hers  so  near 
her  father's  cot  that  even  with  their  faint  voices  they 
could  commune  with  each  other.  And  often  in  the  inter- 
vals of  our  nursing  and  our  efforts  to  cheer  them  we  heard 
interchanges  between  them,  the  low  and  faint  tones,  which 
trembled  with  all  the  tenderness  of  the  father  and  daugh- 
ter, as  they  noted  to  each  other  the  progress  of  decline, 
and  the  color  of  their  thoughts  and  feelings  in  view  of  it. 
Katie  still  made  efforts  to  keep  from  the  couch,  but  the 
languid  eye,  though  it  shed  no  tears,  was  the  sure  index 
that  she  also  was  drooping.  Jeannette,  by  incredible 
efforts,  kept  up  her  exertions,  if  not  her  courage  and  spir- 
its, and  was  continually  walking  from  couch  to  couch, 
like  a  ministering  angel,  begging  us  all  to  keep  up  our 
spirits  and  trust  in  the  power  and  mercy  of  God.  Amidst 
this  scene  of  trial  even  Fergus's  gay  face  became  overcast. 
I  often  saw  the  poor  fellow  struggle  to  the  utmost  to 
restrain  the  expression  of  his  feelings,  and  when  it  was  no 
longer  in  his  power,  go  abroad,  and  give  free  scope  to  his 
tears.  My  own  heart  was  inexpressibly  heavy.  I  spent 
hours  and  days  in  intense  thought  upon  the  nature  of  their 
disease,  and  the  possibility  of  some  remedy.  I  scrambled 
the  mountains  anew  for  mountain  herbs,  and  every  sort 
that  Fergus  had  heard  to  be  salutary,  was  given  in  de- 


320  Robert  Gordon. 

coction.  As  a  last  resource,  I  proposed  to  go  in  disguise 
to  Durango.  We  had  no  want  of  money,  and  I  felt  sure 
that  I  could  bring  in  safety  my  friend  the  American  doctor. 
Neither  the  father  nor  his  daughters  would  listen  a  mo- 
ment to  the  proposition.  The  father,  and  both  the  sick 
daughters  insisted  that  they  were  doing  quite  well,  that  they 
felt  their  disease  to  be  of  such  a  character  that  medicines 
and  physicians  could  do  nothing  for  it,  and  that  time  alone 
could  remove  their  ills.  'They  assured  me  that  if  I 
started  away  the  loneliness  alone  would  kill  them,  and  that 
they  should  never  see  me  again ;  that  even  if  I  went,  the 
temptation  of  the  price  on  my  head  would  be  sure  to  bring 
death  to  me,  without  any  other  effect  on  them  than  involv- 
ing us  all  in  the  same  common  ruin. 

I  will  not  tire  you  with  the  details  of  the  decline  of  the 
father  and  his  daughters,  if  I  may  avoid  it.  I  am  aware 
that,  passing  as  it  did  under  my  eye,  with  my  feelings  so 
interested  in  the  family,  and  in  our  peculiar  circumstances, 
it  may  not  engross  the  feelings  of  others  as  it  did  mine. 
In  the  middle  of  December  there  happened  a  strong  white 
frost  and  one  of  those  glorious  mornings  of  a  tropical  cli- 
mate in  the  mountains  ensued.  The  first  gleams  of  the 
morning  sun  melted  away  the  hoary  crystals  where  they 
had  fallen.  To  the  mingled  notes  of  a  thousand  birds 
were  added  the  distant  baying  of  our  dogs,  ringing 
and  echoing  in  the  distant  forests  and  hills.  The  deer, 
buffalo  and  every  thing  that  had  life  uttered  its  peculiar 
note  of  joy.  The  brilliance  of  the  morning  sun  illumined 
the  entrance  to  our  cave.  The  carol  of  the  birds,  and  a 
mingled  hum  of  the  spirit  stirring  morning,  was  heard  by 
the  feeble  tenants  of  the  couches.  "What  a  beautiful 
morning!"  each  exclaimed.  To  my  surprise,  both  the 
father  and  Etta  requested  that  they  might  be  dressed  and 
helped  to  the  seat  under  the  sycamore.  Jeannette  dressed 


Three  Graves.  321 

her  sister,  and  Fergus  the  father,  and  Katie  was  just  able 
to  drag  her  weary  frame  to  the  place.  The  father,  when 
dressed,  aroused  himself.  "My  tear  Robert,"  said  he, 
"Gott  knows  when  I  shall  feel  so  strong  again.  This  is  too 
sweet  a  morning  to  spend  on  this  weary  couch.  Help  me 
up  to  look  at  the  sun  once  more."  Fergus  and  I  lifted 
him  out  and  placed  him  on  his  seat.  Etta  was  loosely 
dressed  in  a  white  muslin  mantle.  The  unusual  effort  of 
rising  had  made  a  small  bright  circle  of  vermilion  in  the 
centre  of  her  cheek.  But  the  rest  of  her  face  was  as  white 
as  her  robe.  We  aided  her  to  a  place  beside  her  father. 
Katie  leaned  against  the  tree.  "Here,  set  me  down,"  said 
Ettie,  "and  let  me  breathe."  As  I  carefully  helped  her  to 
her  seat,  and  adjusted  her  cushion,  she  smiled  and  said, 
"My  dear  brother,  you  forget  how  liable  such  gallantry  is 
to  suspicion,  if  any  one  should  be  here  in  concealment  to 
see  it."  The  daughter  sustained  herself  and  her  father  by 
passing  her  arm  about  his  neck,  and  their  faces  had  that 
exultation  of  feeling  and  tenderness  mingled  with  the 
traces  of  sinking  nature  which  clearly  indicated  that  the 
mortal  was  soon  to  unite  itself  with  the  dust,  and  that  the 
spirits  were  preparing  for  their  flight.  Both  were  silent 
for  some  moments  as  if  lost  in  the  intenseness  of  thought 
or  feeling. 

Etta  spoke  first,  and  with  a  stronger  tone  of  voice  than 
usual.  "My  dear  father,"  said  she,  laying  her  hand  on 
her  bosom,  "there  is  that  passing  here  that  no  words  can 
describe.  What  a  glorious  morning  and  how  sweetly  those 
birds  sing!  They  are  chanting  the  praises  of  Him  to 
whom  we  are  going.  Oh !  we  shall  be  together  there  for- 
ever; and  there  is  no  slander,  no  wounds,  no  shedding  of 
blood,  no  bitterness  of  heart.  Look  at  the  clouds  on  yon- 
der plain ;  see  how  they  flit  over  the  green  grass.  And  such 
is  life!  How  grand  and  awful  are  those  blue  summits 


322  Robert  Gordon. 

yonder,  that  soar  away  toward  Heaven.  Dear  father, 
whenever  I  have  lately  mentioned  in  our  hymns  and  our 
prayers  the  sweet  word,  'Faderland/  it  was  not  of  the 
country  beyond  the  seas,  where  I  was  born,  that  I  thought, 
but  the  good  and  happy  country  above  these  blue  sum- 
mits. There  is  'Faderland.'  There  alone  is  peace."  The 
father  was  dissolved  in  tears.  The  sisters  with  difficulty 
restrained  the  audible  burst  of  their  grief.  Fergus  turned 
and  walked  away,  unable  to  witness  the  scene  longer.  I 
saw  that  she  was  faint  and  that  her  bosom  heaved  with  a 
short,  laborious  respiration.  I  watched  the  entranced 
inspiration  of  her  eye,  which  was  kindled  with  an  enthu- 
siasm and  filial  tenderness  that  struck  me  with  awe.  At 
my  request  she  took  a  little  wine,  and  as  she  manifested  a 
purpose  to  speak  again,  the  father  looked  upon  her  with 
entreaty  in  his  blue  eyes.  "Mein  Gott!  It  is  too  much. 
Tear  Etta,  say  no  more.  You  kill  me  twice  to  see  your 
eyes  sparkle  so  and  hear  your  voice  sound  so  strange. 
Let  us  die  and  go  to  heaven  together,  and  say  not  another 
word  about  it."  "Dear  father,"  she  continued,  "but  this 
once,  and  I  will  be  still.  Come  here,  my  good  Jeannette. 
My  poor,  pale  Katie,  come  here."  They  both  trembled  ex- 
cessively, for  they  understood  her  voice  and  countenance. 
They  came  to  her  and  each  took  a  hand.  "Be  good  girls," 
said  she,  "neither  mourn  nor  cry.  It  is  not  the  terrible 
thing  I  thought  it,  to  die.  I  am  in  no  pain  nor  fear  and  I 
am  quite  happy,  and  I  feel  like  sinking  to  a  sweet  sleep." 
She  slowly  raised  her  finger  and  pointed  to  the  sky.  "Look 
at  that  mild,  blue  firmament.  Beyond  are  God,  my  Re- 
deemer, and  my  final  home.  Lay  me  beside  the  spring 
there,  a  little  below  the  foot  of  the  tree,  where  our  brother 
sits  to  read.  Each  of  you  kiss  me."  They  each  ap- 
proached nearer,  knelt,  and  gave  her  the  long,  quivering 
and  final  kiss  of  agonizing  and  parting  affection.  "And 


Three  Graves.  3*3 

you,  too,  my  dear  brother,  there  can  be  no  harm  now." 
They  inclined  their  heads,  and  I  knelt  and  received  the 
pressure  of  her  cold  lips.  She  then  said  in  a  faint  voice, 
"Dear,  dear  father!  the  last  and  the  sweetest  is  for  you, 
for  we  shall  sleep  together."  But  it  was  too  late.  The 
affectionate  heart  of  the  father,  broken  with  what  he  had 
seen,  suffered  and  expected,  had  ceased  to  beat.  The 
daughter,  with  her  arm  still  around  his  neck,  drew  one 
long,  deep  sigh,  and  they  were  both  forever  free  from  the 
burdens  of  this  life. 

Never  shone  there  a  brighter  morning  sun  than  that 
which  threw  its  radiance  on  their  pale  faces.  Fergus  and 
I  laid  them  on  the  grass,  without  removing  the  arm  of  the 
daughter  from  its  place,  and  I  aided  Katie  to  her  couch, 
and  the  other  sister  seated  herself  by  her  bed.  It  was  a 
scene  of  peculiar  sorrow,  and  I  was  so  confused  and  trou- 
bled that  I  have  but  an  indistinct  remembrance  of  what 
followed.  According  to  the  dying  request  of  the  sister, 
no  tears  were  shed  except  by  Fergus,  and  he  wept  only 
when  abroad.  Jeannette  walked  thoughtfully  backward 
and  forward,  occasionally  looking  at  the  tranquil  counte- 
nance of  her  sister,  on  which  the  last  smile  of  affection  and 
hope  were  sealed  up,  and  then  on  her  father,  whom  we 
dressed  for  his  last  sleep  in  his  full  uniform.  Fergus  dug 
one  grave  and  I  the  other,  in  the  spot  which  Etta  had  des- 
ignated with  her  dying  breath.  We  sought  and  found  blue 
slate  of  the  mountains  from  which  we  obtained  slabs  and 
placed  in  their  narrow  beds  in  the  form  of  coffins,  reserv- 
ing one  for  a  covering.  All  this  was  not  accomplished 
until  the  sun  had  sunk  below  the  tops  of  the  mountains. 
I  then  said  to  Jeannette,  "All  is  ready,  my  dear  sis- 
ter, for  laying  the  bodies  of  these  our  friends  in  their  last 
bed ;  are  there  to  be  other  solemnities  before  we  render  dust 
to  dust  ?"  She  wished  to  read  the  Saxon  Lutheran  burial 


324  Robert  Gordon. 

service  over  the  bodies.  I  brought  her  the  book  that  con- 
tained it.  Fergus  and  Katie  knelt  on  one  side  of  the 
bodies,  and  the  priestess  in  this  sad  solemnity  and  myself 
on  the  other.  In  a  voice  of  great  energy  and  exertion 
that  seemed  to  impart  calmness  and  touching  sweetness, 
and  which  was  rendered  by  the  scene  and  by  the  suppressed 
emotion  sublimely  impressive,  and  with  an  eye  that  often 
turned  from  the  book  to  the  sky,  she  read  that  solemn 
service.  She  then  sang  the  hymn  that  had  been  so  dear 
to  them,  in  the  same  language.  As  this  service  closed,  they 
knelt  a  moment  in  silence.  Fergus  and  I  then  took  the 
body  of  the  father  first  and  afterward  the  daughter,  and 
deposited  them  in  the  lonely  beds  prepared  for  them.  The 
daughters  cast  one  intense  look  at  the  loved  countenances. 
We  each  took  a  slab  and  gently  laid  them  over  the  bodies. 
They  each,  according  to  the  pious  custom  of  their  country, 
threw  a  little  earth  into  each  grave,  and  we  heaped  up  their 
narrow  beds  and  left  them  to  their  final  repose. 

The  shades  of  evening  had  closed  around  us  when  the 
solemn  duties  were  finished.  Fergus  prepared  our  coffee, 
and  Katie  exerted  herself  to  take  her  customary  seat  at 
the  table.  You  can  easily  imagine  that  it  was  a  melan- 
choly repast.  When  it  was  over,  Katie  grasped  my  hand 
and  thanked  me  for  all  that  I  had  done  for  them.  She 
added,  "We  will  not  bow  you  to  the  earth  by  witnessing  un- 
told sorrow.  To  you  it  is  owing  that  they  had  all  the 
solace  and  comfort  that  their  case  admitted,  and  that  they 
have  been  so  decently  interred.  They  are  now  emanci- 
pated, and  we  owe  them  no  duties  but  those  of  memory, 
and  those  we  shall  pay  but  too  faithfully.  And  yet  why? 
How  much  happier  are  they  than  we  ?" 

The  inspiration  of  the  evening  had,  in  some  sense,  passed 
away  in  the  morning.  There  was  still  a  strong  struggle 
for  self-control.  Their  countenances  showed  how  unavail- 


Three  Graves.  325 

ing  was  that  struggle,  and  that  nature  will  have  her  way. 
Katie  was  evidently  soon  to  find  rest  beside  her  sister. 
She  thought,  and  she  said  so  herself ;  and  then  added  that 
she  felt  but  a  single  regret  in  the  thought,  and  that  was 
that  she  should  leave  her  sister  still  more  alone.  They 
saw,  too,  that  I  was  ill,  and  their  apprehensions  on  this 
score  operated  as  a  powerful  motive  to  restrain  the  expres- 
sions of  their  feelings.  Indeed  the  sympathy  which  I  had 
felt  with  their  sorrow,  and  the  unremitting  attention  I  had 
paid  to  the  sick  and  the  loneliness  of  heart  which  I  now  ex- 
perienced, had  borne  heavily  upon  my  health.  But  I  spoke 
cheerfully  and  assured  them  that  they  need  have  no  appre- 
hensions for  me. 

Katie  became  paler  every  day,  but  she  made  it  a  point 
to  arise  occasionally  and  be  dressed.  She  became  more 
earnest  and  assiduous  in  her  prayers  and  religious  exer- 
cises. When  they  were  finished  in  the  morning,  she  gen- 
erally requested  her  sister  and  me  to  each  take  an  arm,  and 
thus  aided  she  was  able  to  take  two  or  three  turns  across 
the  plain  in  front  of  our  cave.  Of  course  every  turn  led  us 
by  the  graves  of  her  father  and  sister. 

The  second  time  we  walked,  as  we  led  this  pale  but  inter- 
esting shadow,  with  her  muslin  robes  floating  so  loosely 
about  her  as  to  seem  but  the  drapery  of  the  tomb,  by  the 
sycamore  where  were  the  two  graves,  she  saw  that  we  had 
carved  an  inscription  on  the  smooth  white  bark  of  the  tree. 
She  begged  us  to  assist  her  to  the  seat  on  which  her  father 
and  sister  had  died,  where  she  could  read  the  inscription. 
The  words  which  I  had  carved  gave  the  names  and  ages  of 
the  deceased,  with  this  line,  in  the  English  language: 
"They  were  lovely  in  their  lives,  and  in  their  death  they 
were  not  divided."  She  read  the  inscription  again  and 
again.  She  then  turned  and  pressed  my  hand,  and  her 
eyes  filled  with  tears.  "I  think,"  said  she,  "it  is  from  the 


326  Robert  Gordon. 

Bible,  and  I  know  enough  of  your  language  to  feel  the 
beauty  of  it.  There  is  room  on  this  side  for  another  grave. 
We  were  equally  dear  to  him,  though  the  heart  of  Etta  broke 
first.  I  wish  to  be  laid  on  this  side,  and  then  he  will  be 
between  us."  As  she  said  this,  we  led  her  back  to  the  cave. 

I  spoke  to  Jeannette  about  the  wish  of  her  father  that  as 
soon  as  he  was  gone  I  should  assist  his  children  to  escape 
to  the  United  States.  The  strength  of  Katie  was  not  suffi- 
cient for  us  to  think  of  making  such  a  journey.  But  I 
suggested  the  propriety  of  putting  a  couch  into  the  wagon 
and  sending  Fergus  with  them  both  to  Durango,  where 
Katie  would  have  the  advantage  of  a  comfortable  house, 
society,  medical  aid  and  better  nursing  than  could  be  had 
here.  It  was  proposed  to  the  invalid  by  us  both.  She 
answered  promptly,  "My  dear  brother,  I  am  perfectly 
aware  that  to  have  no  society  but  of  moping  and  melan- 
choly girls,  and  one  of  them  sick,  must  be  a  painful  and 
tiresome  business  to  a  young  man  like  you.  I  neither 
wonder  at  nor  think  hard  of  you  for  wishing  to  get  rid  of 
us.  But  for  me,  and  I  think  I  may  add  for  my  sister,  that 
it  is  wholly  out  of  the  question.  If  there  are  spies  upon  us, 
we  care  little  what  the  world  may  choose  to  say  about  us, 
that  I  dare  say,  my  sister  does  not  bestow  a  second  thought 
upon  the  subject.  I  would  not  regard  it  even  if  I  ex- 
pected to  return  to  life,  which  I  surely  do  not.  For  the 
rest,  I  would  not  lose  the  pleasure  of  walking  so  long  as 
I  am  able,  beside  their  graves.  Do  not  name  the  thing 
again,  my  brother,  of  removing  me  from  this  place. 
Here  is  my  last  home." 

I  have  a  satisfaction  in  reflecting  that  there  was  nothing 
that  could  be  procured  in  these  mountains  that  we  did  not 
obtain  for  her.  Fergus  displayed  his  acquirements  in  the 
art  of  the  country  by  noosing  a  cow  and  a  goat,  which  we 
confined  and  fed  for  their  milk. 


Three  Graves.  327 

During  this  slow  and  heavy  winter,  Fergus  went  on  a 
second  trip  to  Durango  to  procure  not  only  a  supply  of 
refreshments,  but  some  little  opiates  and  cordials  that  we 
thought  would  at  least  palliate  the  watchfulness  and  weak- 
ness of  our  dear  invalid.  He  returned  with  the  articles 
in  safety.  Royalism  had,  for  the  present,  in  the  interior 
provinces,  a  quiet  ascendancy.  A  number  of  obnoxious 
patriots,  upon  whose  heads  a  price  had  been  fixed,  had 
been  brought  in  and  executed.  I  was  in  no  danger,  only 
because  I  was  supposed  to  have  reached  the  United  States. 
Of  the  two  families  that  knew  our  secret,  and  interested 
themselves  for  us,  we  only  heard  that  things  with  them  were 
as  usual. 

This  is  probably  carrying  out  with  tedious  minuteness 
the  details  of  how  we  passed  the  winter,  spring  and  sum- 
mer. Months  passed,  and  left  upon  the  memory  no  traces 
but  a  general  and  gloomy  recollection  of  the  same  sad  way 
of  getting  along.  Katie  herself  seemed  sometimes  verging 
on  fretfulness  and  impatience.  She  said  it  was  hard  to 
endure  the  thought  of  this  sad  decay,  and  longed  for  the 
repose  of  her  father  and  sister.  When  she  expressed  these 
desires  to  be  gone,  her  sister  would  sometimes  grasp  her 
hand  and  entreat  her  to  live  for  her  sake.  "Look  you 
here,"  she  would  reply,  holding  up  her  skeleton  arm,  "and 
see,  dearest  Jeannette,  if  I  could  live,  even  if  I  wished  it." 

The  last  walk  we  aided  her  to  take  she  was  impressed 
with  a  sentiment  that  it  would  be  her  last,  and  it  was  the 
most  cheerful  promenade  that  we  had  taken  for  some 
time.  To  us  she  seemed  better.  She  stooped  to  admire 
the  freshness  of  the  flowers  that  we  had  planted  over 
the  graves  of  her  father  and  sister,  which  were  now  in  full 
bloom.  She  remarked  upon  the  delightfulness  of  the 
morning,  the  freshness  of  the  air,  and  what  a  glorious  and 
happy  world  this  would  be  if  we  could  always  see  such 


328  Robert  Gordon. 

"    •*          \ 

scenery,  breath  such  air,  have  the  exercise  of  perfect  health, 
and  have  our  friends  always  with  us,  and  have  perpetually 
the  exultation  of  feeling  that  she  then  felt.  She  read  the 
inscription  on  the  tree  repeatedly,  her  lips  moved,  and  she 
looked  upwards.  She  then  complained  of  fatigue,  and 
requested  us  to  aid  her  to  her  couch.  As  soon  as  she  gained 
it,  she  remarked,  that  of  all  these  pleasant  walks,  this  had 
been  the  most  delightful ;  and  "I  perceive,"  said  she,  "that 
you  have  not  been  aware  that  this  has  been  my  last." 

After  we  had  lain  her  down  and  fanned  her  for  a  mo- 
ment, she  begged  her  sister  to  leave  her,  and  go  to  the  dis- 
tant part  of  the  cave,  adding,  that  she  felt  quite  comfort- 
able, and  that  she  had  something  particular  to  say  to  me. 
Fergus  arose  and  went  away.  "Sit  close  to  me,"  said  she, 
"dear  brother,  and  listen.  I  have  a  great  many  things 
to  say  to  you.  This  is  a  lonely  and  melancholy  kind  of 
life  that  you  have  been  leading  here  for  a  long  time.  What 
would  you  think  if  your  sick  sister,  to  whom  you  have  been 
so  very  kind,  should  spend  her  last  moments  in  choosing  a 
wife  for  you?  Pray  do  not  look  with  so  much  astonish- 
ment, for  I  am  not  wild,  but  I  shall  speak  words  to  you  of 
the  most  sober  truth.  I  am  sure  there  can  be  nothing  for- 
bidding in  the  idea  of  my  dear  sister  for  a  wife.  Do  you 
know  that  all  this  time  the  girl  has  loved  you?  And  such 
a  love!  It  is  not  the  haughty  and  coarse  sentiment  of 
Dorothea,  nor  the  romantic  fondness  of  the  beautiful  Isa- 
bel, but  something  tenderer  and  I  am  sure  as  pure  as  that 
of  a  sister.  She  has  lived  upon  this  deeply  cherished  feel- 
ing. She  would  have  died  with  the  rest  of  us  but  for  this. 
She  has  had  something  for  which  to  hope  and  think.  You 
would  be  to  her  as  father,  brother,  and  sister.  We  have 
all  known  that  she  entertained  this  feeling,  and  have  felt, 
that  instead  of  loving  us  the  less  she  has  loved  us  the  more. 
Has  she  ever  betrayed  this  deep  feeling  by  a  word  or  look 


Three  Graves. 

to  you  ?"  I  answered  that  I  had  not  dreamed  that  she  en- 
tertained a  feeling  toward  me  beyond  sisterly  kindness. 
"There,"  said  she,  "you  have  Jeannette's  character,  just 
that  ardor  and  self-control.  Oh !  if  you  knew  her  but  half 
as  well  as  I  do,  you  could  not  but  love  her  in  return.  I 
requested  this  conversation  that  I  might  make  you  one  re- 
quest. You  need  have  no  fear  of  frequent  teasing  in  this 
way.  It  is  my  dying  request.  This  dear  girl  knows 
nothing  of  my  purpose.  The  request  is,  that  you  shall 
marry  Jeannette.  To-morrow  she  will  be  alone  with  you. 
You  know  what  has  been  said  already.  How  much  more 
will  be  said  when  I  am  gone.  I  love  you  too  with  a  sisterly 
kindness,  but  I  think  it  so  disinterested  that  I  would  not, 
to  save  her  reputation,  or  her  life,  ask  you  to  do  this  if  I 
did  not  firmly  believe  that  she  will  render  you  happy — 
happier,  I  dare  say,  my  dear  brother,  than  even  Isabel. 
The  times  will  change  and  you  will  soon  be  able  to  leave 
these  mountains  with  safety  and  honor.  Unless  she  leaves 
them  as  your  wife,  she  will  never  leave  them  at  all.  Here 
she  will  spend  the  sad  days  of  her  remaining  existence." 

She  was  here  so  much  exhausted  that  she  was  obliged 
to  lie  down,  drawing  her  breath  with  that  short,  rapid  and 
laborious  respiration  which  marks  that  the  organs  are 
performing  their  functions  so  much  the  more  rapidly  as 
they  are  nearer  run  down.  During  this  interval  of  ex- 
haustion her  sister  came  to  the  bed,  apparently  ignorant  of 
the  purpose  of  her  communication  with  me.  We  applied 
all  the  restoratives  which  we  could  command.  Jean- 
nette stood  over  her,  feeling  her  pulse,  and  struggling  to 
suppress  the  appearance  of  alarm,  and  laboring  to  treat 
this  as  one  of  her  customary  fits  of  faintness.  It  was  half 
an  hour  before  she  revived  sufficiently  to  resume  the  con- 
versation. We  then  raised  her  again,  and  with  a  faint 


330  Robert  Gordon. 

smile  she  remarked  to  her  sister  that  she  had  not  quite 
finished  what  she  had  to  say  to  me. 

Her  sister  retired  again,  and  she  resumed  the  conversa- 
tion. "I  had  a  great  many  more  things  to  say  to  you,  but 
I  perceive  my  strength  is  failing,  and  I  must  come  to  an 
end.  What  do  you  say,  my  dear  brother,  to  my  proposi- 
tion? I  have  been  settling  the  great  concerns  of  eternity 
for  months.  There  is  but  this  single  concern  on  my  mind. 
Satisfy  me  on  this  point  and  I  shall  sink  as  in  sleep.  I 
could  not  bear  the  thought  of  her  returning  to  the  world,  to 
encounter  shame  and  reproach;  or  of  her  remaining  alone 
in  these  mountains,  with  no  other  objects  to  contemplate 
than  the  graves  of  her  father  and  sisters.  When  I  am 
gone,  and  you  and  she  are  left  here  alone  with  no  witnesses, 
no  protection  but  your  servant,  guilty  or  innocent,  it 
will  be  the  same  in  the  eyes  of  the  world.  Surely  you  will 
not  embitter  my  last  moments  by  denying  to  your  sister 
Katie  the  last  request  she  will  ever  make  you." 

I  am  not  a  casuist.  I  knew  not  what  answer  to  give  at 
once  to  comfort  the  dying  and  not  commit  my  conscience 
and  my  future  conduct.  It  occurred  to  me  to  say  that  she 
might  be  mistaken  in  respect  to  her  sister's  feelings,  and  to 
admit  that  I  was  previously  occupied  with  other  senti- 
ments, which  I  could  not  immediately  conquer,  and  that  it 
would  be  injustice  to  Jeannette  to  offer  her  a  divided  affec- 
tion. But  the  progress  of  her  disease  saved  me  from 
disseminating  or  prevarication,  and  her  from  the  agony 
of  a  refusal.  She  passed  into  that  state  of  feverish  exal- 
tation, in  which  she  always  found  everything  according  to 
her  wishes.  She  called  her  sister  with  such  a  strength  of 
voice  that  she  heard  her  at  a  considerable  distance.  Her 
sister  came  trembling,  or  rather  flew  to  the  bed.  "I  have 
finished  with  him,"  said  she,  "and  now,  dear  Jeannette,  I 
wish  to  speak  to  you  both."  She  clasped  both  our  hands  in 


Three  Graves.  331 

hers.  "Do  you  remember/'  said  she,  (fhovr  sweetly  tran- 
quil Etta  was  when  she  died?  Well,  I  feel  equally  so. 
The  only  earthly  concern  on  my  heart  is  settled  as  I  could 
wish.  I  shall  be  happy  with  my  dear  father  and  Etta, 
above  the  stars,  and  you  two  will  be  happy  together  while 
on  the  earth."  Saying  this,  she  closed  her  eyes  from  ex- 
haustion. We  stood  by  her  with  awe,  almost  unmixed 
with  pain,  and  scarcely  grieved  at  the  thought  that  her 
affectionate  spirit  had  fled.  But  she  recovered  again,  so 
far  as  to  open  her  eyes,  and,  with  a  sweet  smile,  to  press 
our  hands,  and  then  she  closed  her  eyes  once  more,  as  in  a 
quiet  sleep,  we  saw  that  she  had  ceased  to  suffer  and  to 
breathe. 

I  pass  by  the  sad  details  of  this  funeral,  only  remark- 
ing that  it  was  managed  as  the  former  had  been  only  with 
this  difference,  that  the  number  of  mourners  was  less.  We 
laid  her  beside  her  father,  who  now  reposed  between  those 
daughters  that  were  so  dear  to  him  when  alive.  The  same 
priestess  prayed  and  sang  as  before.  All  that  was  neces- 
sary to  make  the  inscription  on  the  sycamore  appropriate 
to  the  three,  was  the  name,  the  age,  and  the  time  of  de- 
cease of  her  who  was  now  united  with  the  other  two. 

The  first  month  after  this  death  was  a  month  of  still 
greater  gloom  and  sadness  than  we  had  -experienced. 
The  loneliness,  of  course,  was  more  complete  and  entire, 
and  our  eyes  were  incessantly  turning  to  the  couches  from 
which  the  sufferers  had  passed.  During  this  month  Fer- 
gus was  once  more  dispatched  to  Durango  and  made  the 
return  in  safety.  No  important  changes  had  occurred  in 
the  political  world,  nor  was  there  any  presage  of  time  when 
I  might  safely  leave  the  mountains.  But  this  time  Fergus 
brought  me  a  letter  in  the  handwriting  which  I  knew  so 
well.  It  was  as  follows: 


332  Robert  Gordon. 

"SiR : — I  have  wept  over  the  ruin  of  the  amiable  family 
with  whom  you  fled  to  the  mountains,  victims  of  a  sym- 
pathy, for  which  the  subjects  of  it  do  not  thank  you.  I 
have  a  kind  of  right  in  what  remains  of  the  family,  for 
Jeannette  has  been  my  companion  and  my  fixed  friend,  and 
she  was  always  very  amiable  and  good.  Now  that  her 
father  and  sisters  are  dead,  I  feel  it  a  duty  due  to  her,  to 
claim  that  you  either  marry  her  or  send  the  poor,  forlorn 
girl  to  me.  However  you  may  have  thought  before,  you 
must  surely  feel  now,  that  she  can  no  longer  reside  with 
you  as  formerly.  I  will  receive,  cherish  and  comfort  her, 
will  ask  no  questions,  and  will  answer  for  her  safety.  You 
cannot  mistake  your  duty,  nor  my  right  to  this  kind  of 
interference.  Present  my  love  and  condolence,  and  show 
her  this." 

I  showed  her  the  letter.  I  felt  that  the  contents  of  it 
were  as  true  as  they  were  important  to  her.  She  shed 
some  tears,  and  blushed  deeply,  after  she  had  read  it.  I 
thought  it  a  good  omen.  It  showed  that  earthly  emotions 
still  held  their  sway.  "I  would  hope,"  said  she,  "that  Isa- 
bel has  written  those  cold  words  out  of  kindness.  But  I 
fear  that  she  allowed  other  feeliings  to  influence  her 
beside  simple  regard  for  me.  But  what  she  writes  is  true ; 
we  cannot  live  here  together  with  propriety.  I  feel  it  is 
a  hard  task,  for  every  friend  on  earth  is  now  gone  but 
you.  I  must  conform  to  my  hard  fate.  You  have  felt, 
while  my  poor  father  was  living,  that  your  honor  forbade 
you  to  escape  and  leave  him  helpless,  as  he  was,  and  his 
helpless  daughters,  among  these  rugged  mountains.  All 
these  obstacles  are  now  removed.  There  is  food  for  a  long 
time  for  me  alone.  You  have  taught  me  to  be  an  Ama- 
zon. I  can  procure  subsistence,  and  I  have  no  fear.  I 
shall  never  feel  lonely,  for  I  shall  always  feel  as  if  in  the 


Three  Graves.  333 

society,  and  under  the  protection  of  my  father  and  sisters. 
You  cannot  be  more  sensible  than  I  am,  that  you  cannot 
now  remain  with  me.  I  never,  never  can  return  to  Du- 
rango.  We  all  have  our  peculiarities,  and  this  is  mine. 
You  take  your  servant  and  escape  to  the  United  States ;  be 
a  happy  man,  and  think  nothing  further  of  me." 

I  answered:  "You  cannot  surely  be  serious  in  proposing 
to  remain  here  alone.  Be  assured,  that  I  will  never  leave 
you  in  this  place.  If  you  distrust  me,  or  wish  to  get  rid  of 
me,  you  must  fly  from  me.  But,  Jeannette,  you  remember 
the  conversation  I  held  with  your  sister  just  before  her 
death.  In  that  conversation  she  gave  me  a  dying  charge, 
to  propose  what  I  am  about  to  propose.  I  am  sure  it  is 
impossible  to  feel  more  tenderness,  respect,  deeper  or  more 
internal  consideration  for  a  woman  than  I  feel  for  you.  I 
once  derided  the  notion  of  any  other  love.  But  I  feel,  to 
my  cost,  that  above  and  beyond  these  tender  sentiments, 
which  have  always  led  me  to  consider  you  as  the  most 
amiable  and  perfect  of  human  beings,  there  is  a  sentiment 
of  another  sort,  without  any  hope  toward  another  person. 
I  am  but  too  well  aware,  that,  even  if  we  could  leave  this 
place  with  safety,  your  reputation  would  be  in  some  sense 
committed  with  mine.  The  world  will  measure  us  by  the 
scale  of  its  own  depravity,  and  not  by  that  of  your  purity. 
I  can  make  you  but  one  reparation  for  an  unintentional  in- 
jury. It  is  beside  the  question  to  leave  you  here  alone,  let 
the  world  say  what  it  will.  You  cannot  compel  me  to  do 
that.  Will  you  remain  with  me  as  my  wedded  wife?  I 
pledge  to  you  that  honor  that  was  never  violated,  that  the 
first  hour,  when  it  can  be  done  with  safety  for  us  both,  I 
will  have  the  tie  solemnized  with  all  the  rites  of  that 
church  which  you  shall  prefer.  And  I  will  strive  by  my 
tenderness  and  fidelity  to  make  you  feel  as  little  as  may 
be,  the  loss  of  those  dear  friends  who  have  left  you."  The 


334  Robert  Gordon. 

proposal  appeared  to  fall  abruptly,  and  wholly  unexpected, 
on  her  ear.  But  she  seemed  rather  overwhelmed  than 
offended.  Blushes  and  paleness  of  death  succeeded  each 
other  in  her  cheeks.  She  sat  down  under  an  excess  of 
agitation.  <fLeave  me,"  she  said,  "a  few  moments,  to  con- 
sider what  you  have  said.  Eeturn  after  an  hour  and  I  will 
give  you  an  answer." 


Bound  for  the  United  States.          335 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

BOUND  FOE  THE  UNITED  STATES. 

AT  the  expiration  of  the  time  I  returned.  She  was  per- 
fectly calm,  and  evinced  great  firmness  of  manner.  "I 
am  sensible,  my  dear  brother,"  said  she,  "of  the  heroism 
and  disinterestedness  of  this  most  generous  sacrifice  which 
you  offer.  I  may,  perhaps,  now  without  shame  admit  that 
I  love  you  deeply,  sincerely  and  with  all  my  heart.  Who 
could  have  seen  what  I  have  and  do  otherwise?  But 
though  I  may  be  romantic,  I  am  neither  selfish  nor  weak. 
I  refuse  your  generous  offer,  not  because  I  do  not  feel  all 
the  nobleness  of  your  conduct  in  making  it,  nor  because 
my  own  treacherous  heart  does  not  incline  me  to  accept 
it.  But  I  will  be  as  generous  as  you  are,  and  for  that  rea- 
son I  will  refuse  your  offer.  I  know  too  well  what  love 
means  not  to  know  the  duty  which  it  imposes.  No  words 
upon  the  subject,  if  you  please.  My  resolution  is  taken. 
I  cannot  return  to  Durango.  I  will  confess  all.  I  am  not 
yet  firm  enough  to  see  you  happy  with  Isabel.  But,  as  the 
only  return  I  can  make  you  for  your  noble  proposal,  we 
will,  if  you  consent,  attempt  to  escape  together  to  the 
United  States.  I  will  make  my  way  to  your  parents.  You 
have  heard  from  my  father  that  he  had  large  sums  in 
British  funds.  I  have  all  the  money  that  my  heart  could 
wish.  Perhaps,"  she  added,  with  a  sad  smile,  "I  may  find 


336  Robert  Gordon.     . 

in  that  country  of  laws  and  men,  some  other  brother  who 
may  disenchant  me  and  cure  the  gloom  and  restore  me  to 
myself  and  humanity.  I  can  listen  to  no  reply  to  any  part 
of  my  proposal  but  the  last." 

I  meditated  for  a  moment,  and  reflected  that  the  chances 
of  our  reaching  the  frontier  multiplied  in  proportion  as 
death  had  diminished  our  numbers.  I  mentioned  the 
thing  to  Fergus.  The  United  States  has  always  been  the 
paradise  of  the  Irish.  His  thoughts  had  always  been  that 
way,  and  he  was  in  raptures  at  the  proposal.  "Now,  God 
Almighty  bless  yer  honor,"  said  he,  "ye  make  my  heart 
stir  within  me  again.  And  here  it  has  lain  all  the  time 
I  have  stayed  in  this  weary  place  like  a  lump  of  lead.  Will 
I  go,  do  ye  say?  Yes,  yer  honor,  I  would  cheat  or  fight 
my  way  there,  through  an  army  of  devils,  to  get  away  from 
this  country  of  blood."  I  have  seldom  found  much  use  in 
turning  over  my  plans  to  take  new  views  of  them  when 
they  strive  forcibly  at  first.  I  informed  Jeannette  that 
since  she  refused  me  as  a  husband  I  would  accompany  her 
flight  as  a  brother,  and  that  I  felt  honored  by  the  choice 
she  had  made  of  my  country  as  a  place  of  refuge,  and  that, 
if  we  were  so  fortunate  as  to  reach  it,  I  did  not  doubt  that 
my  parents  would  receive  her  as  a  child. 

It  was  a  thing  of  course  to  be  attempted  as  soon  as  pos- 
sible. We  all  prepared  ourselves  with  Spanish  dresses,  as 
little  conspicuous  as  possible.  We  spoke  the  language 
with  considerable  accuracy.  We  assumed  the  badge  of  the 
royalists.  Our  wagon  and  many  of  our  more  cumbrous 
possessions  here  we  cheerfully  left  to  the  next  occupant. 
Such  articles  as  were  necessary  we  packed,  and  our  caval- 
cade had  the  usual  appearance  of  a  traveling  party  in  that 
country.  The  time  fixed  for  our  departure  was  the  next 
morning.)  The  firmness  and  excitement  of  Jeannette, 
which  had  hitherto  so  wonderfully  sustained  her,  passed 


Bound  for  the  United  States.          337 

away  on  this  occasion.  The  remainder  of  the  day  she  was 
sad,  silent,  and  in  tears,  giving  me  wrong  answers,  and 
often  running  to  execute  business  most  foreign  from  her 
apparent  intentions.  Our  arrangements  were  soon  set- 
tled. She  retired  to  long  private  devotions,  and  I  re- 
quested her  to  go  early  to  rest,  to  be  ready  to  leave  with  the 
rising  sun.  I  was  myself  gloomy  and  restless  through  the 
night.  The  moment  I  slept,  the  honest  Saxon  and  his 
deceased  daughters  seemed  to  be  about  me,  upbraiding  me 
for  deserting  them.  I  arose  a  little  after  midnight  and 
went  abroad.  The  fair,  full  moon  arose  from  the  bound- 
less fog  of  the  plain,  as  I  have  seen  the  sun  rise  on  the  sea, 
pouring  her  full  and  melancholy  light  upon  the  hoary  cliffs 
of  these  ancient  mountains.  The  owls  were  hooting 
responses  from  their  hollow  trees.  The  funereal  howl  of 
the  wolf  rung  from  cliff  to  cliff,  and  from  cavern  to  cavern. 
In  the  intervals  of  their  howls  I  heard  the  low  moans  of  a 
human  voice.  At  first  I  doubted  my  ear.  The  moans 
were  repeated,  and  in  a  manner  to  leave  no  doubt  of  their 
origin.  I  went  in  the  direction  of  the  sound.  Jeannette, 
for  it  was  she,  arose  from  her  kneeling  posture  beside  the 
graves.  "Forgive  me,"  she  said,  "the  indulgence  of  the 
last  opportunity  I  may  ever  have  to  visit  these  graves.  I 
wished  not  to  distress  you  in  the  morning  with  my  sorrows, 
and  I  desired  to  finish  these  sacred  duties  unwitnessed  and 
alone.  What  a  place  to  leave  these  dear  and  hallowed  re- 
mains !  What  a  funeral  torch  is  that  pale  moon !  What  a 
monument  these  everlasting  pillars  of  rock!  What  a 
dirge  the  howl  of  those  wolves  in  the  cabins  of  the  cliffs ! 
Here  a  poor  orphan,  with  a  continent  and  an  ocean  be- 
tween her  and  the  remotest  kindred  in  the  land  of  her 
birth,  is  compelled  to  leave  these  dear  remains  to  slumber 
alone.  If  it  be  His  will,  who  ordereth  all  things  right,  I 
would  gladly  return  to  this  spot  once  more.  But  if  not, 


338  Robert  Gordon. 

there  is  as  short  a  passage  from  these  mountains  to  the 
celestial  mansions,  as  from  any  other  place.  Your  spirits, 
my  dear  departed  friends,  I  doubt  not  have  found  the 
road  to  your  homes.  Farewell,  then.  Rest  in  peace."  I 
would  have  persuaded  her  to  return  to  her  couch,  to 
avoid  the  gloom  of  the  scene,  and  the  dampness  of  the  night 
air.  But  I  saw  that  she  intended  to  pass  the  remainder 
of  the  night  there,  and  that  my  presence  was  a  restraint 
upon  the  expression  of  her  feelings.  I  left  her  to  com- 
mune with  the  night  and  these  graves,  and  to  utter 
thoughts  intended  only  for  the  Divine  ear. 

It  was  a  cheerful  morning  to  all  the  world  but  to  the 
solitary  tenants  of  this  cave.  A  thousand  circumstances 
united  to  render  it  an  affecting  event  to  us  all  to  leave  this 
place.  We  were  once  more  putting  to  sea  in  the  midst  of 
the  storm.  But  the  idea  of  the  dangers  upon  which  we 
were  throwing  ourselves,  was  not  the  circumstance  that 
most  impressed  us.  The  cheerful  hours  I  had  spent  with 
the  dead,  the  quietness  and  repose  of  the  place,  a  thousand 
blending  associations  bound  me  to  the  spot.  So  dear  was 
it  to  me,  so  many  attachments  to  it  had  grown  up  in  my 
heart  that,  as  we  were  packing  and  making  arrangements  to 
mount  our  horses,  my  eyes  filled  with  tears.  But  I  felt  it 
must  be  so  much  more  affecting  and  painful  to  Jeannette 
that  it  became  me  to  set  her  an  example  of  calmness. 

Fergus  led  the  van.  The  dogs  raised  their  joyous  cry 
and  preceded  us  on  our  way  down  the  mountain.  "Now," 
said  I,  "dear  Jeannette,  as  a  brother,  since  you  have  forbid- 
den me  the  use  of  a  dearer  name,  I  implore  you  to  give  me 
a  good  omen  as  we  depart,  and  not  go  away  in  sorrow.  This 
place,  I  know  must  be  dear  to  you  by  the  tenderest  associa- 
tions. We  have  had  our  joys  here  as  well  as  our  sorrows. 
We  have  planted  flowers  on  the  graves  that  will  continue  to 
bloom  when  we  are  away.  Perhaps,  in  safety  and  honor,  we 


Bound  for  the  United  States.  339 

may  one  day  be  allowed  to  revisit  these  mountains  and  re- 
move the  dust  to  a  more  hallowed  rest.  It  is  still  at  your 
option  to  return  under  my  protection  as  a  brother,  or  with 
the  still  dearer  name  of  husband/'  Saying  this,  I  assisted 
her  to  mount  her  horse,  and  we  took  our  solitary  way  after 
Fergus  down  the  mountain.  I  was  neither  disappointed 
nor  sorry  when  I  heard  by  her  audible  sobbing  that  her 
heart  was  throwing  off  its  load  of  oppression  in  unre- 
strained weeping. 

We  made  our  way  down  to  the  plains,  determined  to 
travel  on  the  prairies,  as  far  as  possible  from  the  accus- 
tomed track  of  men,  and  if  we  met  with  any  people  dis- 
posed to  question  us,  to  evade  their  questions,  to  excite  as 
little  attention  as  possible,  and  if  we  were  attacked,  should 
there  not  be  fearful  odds  against  us,  to  attempt  to  defeat 
the  assailants.  For  myself,  I  was  determined  not  to  be 
taken  alive.  The  first  day  we  traversed  the  customary 
grassy  plains,  and  we  saw  nothing  but  herds  of  wild  cattle, 
and  one  or  two  solitary  Indians,  who  crossed  our  path  on 
horseback,  and  seemed  quite  as  glad  to  avoid  us  as  we  were 
to  avoid  them.  We  had  a  kind  of  tent  prepared  at  night 
for  Jeannette ;  and  Fergus  and  myself  slept  by  a  fire,  the 
one  at  the  head  and  the  other  at  the  foot  of  the  tent. 

We  traveled  unquestioned,  and  without  annoyance,  some 
days,  until  in  making  a  wide  circuit  among  the  wooded 
hills,  to  avoid  Chihuahua,  we  were  encountered  by  three 
persons,  who  hailed  us  as  patriots,  but  who  were  unques- 
tionably robbers.  They  fired  upon  us  and  we  returned 
their  fire,  but  at  such  a  distance  that  we  received  no  other 
harm  than  the  wounding  of  one  of  our  horses.  In  passing 
the  vicinity  of  towns  and  villages  we  thought  it  most  pru- 
dent to  lay  by  during  the  day  and  travel  only  by  night. 
A  fortunate  occurrence  saved  us  from  the  necessity  of 
further  disguise  or  concealment.  We  were  making  a  dis- 


340  Robert  Gordon. 

tant  circuit  to  the  left  to  avoid  the  town  of  Coahuila.  We 
were  descending  an  abrupt  hill,  a  little  after  sunset.  Be- 
fore we  were  aware  we  had  descended  upon  a  small  body  of 
soldiers  encamped  at  the  foot  of  the  hill.  We  motioned 
Jeannette  to  remain,  and  Fergus  and  I,  with  as  little  ap- 
pearance of  concern  as  we  could  assume,  rode  up  to  them. 
They  saluted  us  with  great  courtesy,  asking  us  the  news. 
We  assigned  as  a  reason  for  having  none  that  we  had 
come  from  a  remote  distance,  and  asked  the  news  in  re- 
turn. They  informed  us  that  they  were  marching  to 
Chihuahua,  that  a  great  revolution  had  commenced  at 
Mexico,  that  Iturbide  had  been  proclaimed  emperor,  and 
that  all  parties  in  the  capital  and  the  more  populous 
provinces  had  been  merged  into  this  new  one;  that  royal- 
ists and  patriots  had  coalesced,  that  the  royal  commanders 
had  resigned;  there  was,,  in  fact,  at  this  time,  "no  king 
in  Israel,"  and  that  "every  one  did  what  seemed  good  in 
his  sight";  that  all  that  was  necessary  was  for  every  one 
to  be  able  to  guard  his  own,  and  that  they  were  marching 
to  the  south  to  join  the  Imperial  Army.  They  added 
many  more  details  of  the  same  sort.  We  readily  perceived 
that  they  were  sanguine  adventurers,  possessing  no  exact 
information  upon  the  points  about  which  they  affirmed. 
But  their  information,  at  least,  went  so  far  as  to  relieve 
us  from  all  apprehensions  of  being  arrested  as  patriots,  as 
the  dominant  party  now  called  themselves  by  that  name. 
I  was  very  happy  in  being  thus  relieved.  It  was  extremely 
painful  to  travel  with  a  young  lady  used  to  the  former 
habits  of  Jeannette  in  this  unpleasant  way  of  concealment. 
She  would  now  not  only  be  relieved  from  traveling  in  the 
night  and  from  many  privations  and  hardships,  but  I 
calculated  soon  to  place  her  under  respectable  female  pro- 
tection. I  had  enough,  too,  of  deserts  and  a  surfeit  of 
g'olitude.  We  had  been  faithfully  taught  the  comforts 


Bound  for  the  United  States.  341 

of  crowded  cities,  of  civilized  life  and  the  haunts  of  men. 
We  got  directions  for  Coahuila,  from  which  we  were  dis- 
tant little  more  than  a  league,  and  we  determined  to 
spend  the  night  there. 

We  arrived  at  the  outskirts  of  the  town  at  nine  in  the 
evening.  We  made  many  useless  inquiries  where  we  might 
find  lodging  for  the  night.  There  was  so  much  distrust, 
and  people  had  been  so  long  in  the  habit  of  considering 
strangers  as  enemies,  that  we  despaired  of  gaining  admis- 
sion anywhere,  and  began  to  regret  having  left  the  shelter 
of  the  woods.  At  length  I  obtained  a  visit  from  a  nun, 
who,  after  carefully  inspecting  us,  and  especially  Jeannette, 
whose  sweet,  melancholy  face  could  not  but  secure  for  her 
a  favorable  opinion,  and,  after  returning  and  consulting 
with  her  sisterhood,  came  back  and  admitted  Jeannette  to 
entertainment  in  the  convent  for  the  night.  On  their 
recommendation,  Fergus  and  I  were  admitted  to  the  house 
of  a  cure,  where  we  were  comfortably  accommodated.  It 
was  the  first  night  that  any  of  us  had  enjoyed  the  luxury 
of  a  bed  for  more  than  two  years. 

During  the  night  I  lay  restless  on  my  down,  and  as  many 
thoughts  and  reflections  passed  through  my  mind  as  could 
be  crowded  into  it  in  so  short  a  time.  You  may  suppose 
that  I  had  some  ties  to  this  country  that  rendered  the 
thought  of  leaving  it  forever,  painful.  The  dangers  and 
hairbreadth  escapes  which  I  had  experienced  in  it  only 
bound  me  to  it  the  more.  Some  invisible  band,  the  band 
of  destiny,  I  suppose,  still  tied  my  heart  to  it.  I  thought 
much,  too,  of  Jeannette.  She  wished  to  fly  to  my  country. 
My  parents  had  seemed  to  her  desolate  heart  in  place  of 
the  friends  she  had  lost.  She  was  beautiful,  amiable  and 
accomplished ;  had  strong  sense,  the  most  affectionate  heart, 
and  the  profoundest  sensibility.  She  had  an  ample  fortune, 
and  every  new  position  in  which  I  had  seen  her  had  called 


34*  Robert  Gordon. 

forth  new  virtues  and  attractions.  In  every  change  of 
condition  I  had  seen  developed  sweet  dispositions,  winning 
manners  and  the  most  exalted  and  generous  principles  of 
action.  Why  could  I  not  love  such  a  woman?  What 
more  could  I  expect  on  the  earth  than  to  return  with  such 
a  wife  to  my  father's  house  and  enjoy  the  gifts  of  Provi- 
dence and  fortune  in  peace  and  privacy?  It  was  not 
vanity  that  assured  me  she  loved  and  trusted  me  and  had 
only  rejected  my  offer  because  she  was  aware  that  the 
affection  was  not  equal  and  mutual.  Why  should  I  leave 
her  thus  doubly  forlorn  as  she  would  then  be?  Still  fur- 
ther, I  discovered  in  the  recesses  of  my  heart,  that  al- 
though something  was  wanting  in  my  feelings,  there  was 
a  train  of  thought  connected  with  her  that  rendered  the 
idea  of  parting  from  her  exceedingly  painful;  and  the 
notion  of  her  loving  and  uniting  herself  with  another 
struck  me  with  something  of  bitterness  that  I  had  learned 
too  well  to  class  under  the  name  of  jealousy. 


The  Parting.  343 


CHAPTEE  XXIII. 

THE   PARTING. 

MY  resolution  for  the  future  was  male  up  during  the 
night.  It  was,  to  escort  her  so  far  on  her  way  to  the 
United  States  as  to  put  her  under  proper  protection  if  she 
chose  to  stay,  or  otherwise  for  her  journey  to  any  part 
of  the  country  she  might  select.  For  myself,  I  resolved  to 
return  to  the  centre  of  the  scene  of  action,  and  if,  on 
investigation,  I  approved  the  cause,  that  I  would  offer 
myself  as  a  volunteer  in  the  armies  of  Iturbide.  I  in- 
formed Jeannette,  when  I  met  her  in  the  morning,  of  my 
resolution.  She  showed  herself  prepared  for  it.  She 
could  not  restrain  her  tears,  but  she  added,  "My  mind 
has  been  prepared  for  this  or  anything  else  that  can  hap- 
pen. It  will  be  hard  to  find  myself  entirely  alone  in  this 
wide  world  and  to  lose  such  a  friend  and  such  a  brother. 
I  tremble,  too,  to  leave  you  in  this  wild  and  wicked  coun- 
try. But  every  one  must  fill  up  his  destiny.  You  can  have 
little  idea  how  I  shall  feel  at  the  thought  of  leaving  you 
here.  I  do  not  complain.  I  feel  that  the  same  tie,  were 
I  in  your  place,  would  detain  me,  too/'  "You  know/'  I 
answered,  "my  dear  Jeannette,  that  it  is  in  your  power 
at  any  moment  to  arrest  my  steps  and  to  command  my  ten- 
derness and  my  duty  to  the  last  hour  of  my  life."  "I  well 
understand  that,  too,"  she  replied.  "You  no  doubt  know 


344  Robert  Gordon. 

why  I  do  not  avail  myself  of  a  protection  so  dear  to  me. 
I  am  not  going  to  prove  myself  ungrateful  for  all  that 
you  have  done  by  repining  that  you  cannot  do  more.  I 
remember  it  all.  And  my  pride,  for  I  have  plenty  of  it, 
little  as  you  seem  to  suspect  it,  is  saved  by  the  reflection 
that  my  misfortune  probably  resulted  from  your  having 
seen  Isabel  first.  Mjy  dear  brother,  I  pardon  you,  that 
your  heart  still  clings  to  this  country.  Would  that  I  were 
a  man !  I  would  go  to  the  wars  with  you.  And  no  danger 
should  reach  you  that  my  powers  or  life  could  avert.  As 
it  is,  I  cannot  follow  your  footsteps.  There  is  but  one 
place  in  this  country  but  what  is  hateful  to  me.  I  will 
go  further;  I  have  not  yet  strength  of  mind  enough  to 
bear  to  see  you  happy  with  Isabel.  But,  if  you  feel  that 
love  and  honor  call  you  to  stay,  it  shall  not  be  said  that  you 
were  obliged  to  tie  yourself  to  the  steps  of  a  fond  and 
weak  girl.  Leave  me,  then;  return  and  fill  up  your  des- 
tiny; and  if  there  be  any  prevalence  in  my  prayers,  you 
cannot  be  other  than  great  and  happy. 

"Thinking  over  a  thousand  things  last  night/'  she  con- 
tinued, "it  occurred  to  me  that  you  would  come  to  this 
resolution.  I  learned  last  night  in  conversation  with  the 
nuns  that  there  is  now  in  this  town  a  Protestant  minister, 
or  a  heretic,  as  they  call  him,  with  his  sister,  on  their  way 
from  Mexico  to  the  United  States.  I  made  inquiry  about 
them,  and  I  discovered  that  the  extreme  jealousy  of  the 
Catholics  on  the  score  of  Protestant  ministers  coming 
among  them,  in  these  times  of  revolution  has  induced  them 
to  sift  every  circumstance  in  relation  to  these  people.  It 
occurred  to  me  that  I  would  procure  an  introduction 
through  you  to  them,  and,  if  in  your  judgment,  their 
character  suited,  I  would  put  myself  under  their  protec- 
tion and  journey  with  them  to  the  United  States." 

According  to  her  wishes,  I  inquired  for  these  people. 


The  Parting.  345 

Such  was  the  bigoted  jealousy  of  the  Catholics  that  I  found 
no  difficulty  in  obtaining  directions  to  their  stopping 
place.  There  was  in  the  town  a  hotel  where  the  people 
from  the  States,  who  had  begun  to  travel  in  considerable 
numbers  from  the  American  frontier  to  Mexico,  stayed. 
Here  I  found  the  gentleman  and  his  sister,  introduced  my- 
self, and  made  known  my  object.  The  gentleman  was 
shrewd,  and  perfectly  aware  of  the  light  in  which  Protes- 
tant ministers  were  viewed  here.  My  dialect,  and  everything 
about  me,  shortly  convinced  him  that  I  was  no  spy,  and  he 
became  communicative  at  once.  He  told  me  that  his  name 
and  title  were  the  Eeverend  William  Cody,  a  preacher  in  the 
Methodist  Church,  who  had  a  local  society  in  the  Missis- 
sippi valley ;  that  his  society  had  heard  much  of  late  about 
the  country  in  the  interior  of  Mexico,  and  had  received 
high  impressions  of  the  mines,  its  fertility,  and  the  rich- 
ness of  its  products.  They  had  become  disgusted  with 
their  slow  and  laborious  way  of  gaining  a  living.  They  had 
an  impression  that  a  revolution  was  at  hand  in  this  coun- 
try, and  they  wished  to  be  among  the  first  who,  in  a  new 
order  of  things,  might  reap  the  advantage.  They  had  sent 
this  gentleman  as  a  precursor  to  spy  out  the  land  and 
bring  back  some  of  its  best  clusters  of  figs  and  ascertain 
the  prospects  and  advantages  of  gaining  a  tract  of  land 
where  they  might  settle  together.  He  had  commenced 
this  journey  with  his  sister  and  easily  ascertaining  how 
an  avowed  Protestant  minister  would  chance  in  that  coun- 
try, he  had  doffed  the  character  for  a  while,  or  rather, 
sunk  it  in  that  of  a  land  speculator.  As  such,  he  had  a 
passport.  He  had  made  his  way  to  the  City  of  Mexico 
and  this  far  back  without  committing  his  character.  But 
the  recent  revolution  having  been  rather  unfavorable  to 
the  influence  of  priests,  and  all  parties  being  involve^ 
for  the  time  in  suspicions  from  every  quarter,  he  had  be- 


346  Robert  Gordon. 

gun  to  feel  it  safe  to  take  his  real  character  from  his 
pocket.  The  natural  zeal  of  proselyting  had  operated  on 
him,  and  he  preached  to  some  Americans  in  this  city.  It 
reached  the  ears  of  the  priests  and  magistrates,  and  nothing 
but  the  condition  of  the  country  saved  him  from  the 
mines  or  the  gallows. 

The  sister  was  well  formed  and  rather  pretty;  half  fine 
and  half  Quakerish  in  her  dress ;  of  unlettered  shrewdness 
and  the  severe  sanctity  of  restraint  and  seriousness,  so  char- 
acteristic of  the  profession.  A  certain  smile,  that  showed 
fine  teeth,  and  a  pretty  movement  of  the  head,  evidenced  a 
little  spice  of  woman,  mixed  up  with  the  ingredients  of  the 
saint.  The  man  was  large,  finely  formed,  and  broad 
chested;  with  plump  and  ruddy  cheeks,  a  rather  hand- 
some face,  and  a  voice  naturally  deep,  mellow,  and  delight- 
ful, but  a  vile  habit  had  caused  him  to  twang  it  through 
his  nostrils  with  a  sound  not  unlike  a  brazen  trumpet. 
His  suit  was  solemn  black,  and  made  with  the  most  rigid 
regard  to  the  Methodistic  costume. 

Occasionally  deep  sighs,  and  groans  half  suppressed,  as 
if  from  distress  of  colic,  and  frequent  ejaculations  of  the 
words,  "Gracious  Lord !"  did  not  conceal  from  any  observer 
of  ordinary  acuteness,  the  quickness  of  his  apprehension 
upon  every  point  of  worldly  advantage.  I  made  him  ac- 
quainted with  the  character  and  condition  of  my  amiable 
protegee.  When  I  spoke  of  her  exquisite  sensibility,  and 
her  great  beauty  and  goodness  I  perceived  by  his  excite- 
ment that  he  would  try  to  conquer  the  fair  subject.  When 
I  mentioned  that  her  father  had  been  ennobled,  and  had 
left  her  an  immense  fortune  in  British  funds,  his  habitual 
caution  and  apparent  elevation  above  all  thoughts  of  earth 
forsook  him  in  his  eagerness  to  obtain  so  promising  a  prize. 
The  flush  of  trembling  impatience  to  close  with  me,  and 
undertake  the  job  actually  flashed  in  his  face.  He  caught 


The  Parting.  347 

the  aroused  suspicion  of  my  eye.  He  uttered  one  of  his 
suppressed  groans,  and  in  a  moment  he  had  the  air  again 
of  having  the  world  under  his  feet.  I  felt  an  internal  dis- 
trust at  the  thought  of  resigning  this  frank  and  amiable 
girl  to  the  care  of  a  man  capable  of  such  art  and  design. 
But  the  protection  was  in  most  points  better  than  could 
have  been  expected  in  such  a  place ;  and  in  some  points  as 
good  as  could  be  desired.  The  whole  aspect  of  things 
showed  clearly  that  no  advantage  would  be  taken,  but  that 
which  would  result  from  the  conquest  of  the  mind  of  my 
protegee  in  a  state  peculiarly  favorable  to  imbibing  such 
impressions  as  the  plan  of  operations  would  naturally  tend 
to  produce.  He  so  readily  comprehended  that  I  was  not 
a  fit  subject  to  work  upon,  and  he  saw  with  the  utmost 
circumspection  how  to  conduct  himself,  and  consented  to 
be  introduced  to  Jeannette.  He  affected  to  be  indifferent, 
while  the  inner  man  was  trembling  with  eagerness  and 
impatience.  He  finally  consented  that  if  all  the  parties  de- 
sired it  after  the  introduction  he  would  agree  to  take  her 
along  with  them. 

I  introduced  Jeannette  to  him  and  his  sister.  I  was 
half  amused  to  see  her  cast  her  mild  and  pensive  eye  upon 
the  form  of  the  brother  and  sister,  and  traverse  them  from 
head  to  foot  The  first  impression  was  the  obvious  one 
to  an  unsuspicious  mind  of  the  purity  and  sanctity  of  the 
parties,  and  the  perfect  safety  of  their  protection.  The 
next  was  that  curiosity  would  be  gratified,  and  that  people 
so  different  from  any  that  she  had  seen  would  furnish  her 
a  new  study.  The  subject  of  her  wishes  was  introduced 
by  herself  in  a  few  words.  As  soon  as  she  touched  upon 
her  melancholy,  and  the  cause  of  it,  so  fair  an  opportunity 
was  not  allowed  to  escape ;  and  with  his  deep,  mellow  voice, 
and  his  eye  cast  upward,  he  spoke  most  eloquently  upon 
his  favorite  topic.  The  manner  of  all  this  was  perfectly 


348  Robert  Gordon. 

new  to  Jeannette.  She  was  melancholy,  and  was  disposed 
to  deep  religious  feeling.  His  voice,  his  manner,  so 
solemn  and  austere,  struck  a  latent  string,  which  only 
needed  this  keynote  to  cause  it  to  vibrate.  When  he  spoke 
of  religion,  as  comprising  all  that  we  need  on  earth,  of  the 
union  of  happy  spirits  above,  and  of  the  necessity  of  tread- 
ing the  earth  under  foot,  every  word  thrilled  upon  the 
heavy  heart  of  Jeannette,  and  her  first  feelings  were  that 
of  thankfulness,  that  in  losing  my  society  she  would  thus 
have  inexhaustible  resources  open  to  her  by  another,  a 
character  so  saint-like  and  superior,  and  so  little  to  have 
been  expected  here.  The  observant  eye  of  the  minister 
quailed  under  the  frank  and  straightforward  inspection  of 
Jeannette.  Persons  could  scarcely  be  better  satisfied  with 
one  another.  All  the  arrangements  of  preparation  on  her 
part  were  intrusted  to  me,  and  they  waited  her  time  for  de- 
parture. He  asked  her  how  soon  she  would  be  able  to 
depart,  and  with  a  voice  trembling  with  emotion  she  asked 
me  when  I  proposed  to  leave  Coahuila,  for  that  she  could 
not  think  of  departing  for  my  country  and  leave  me  in  that 
place.  Her  departure  was  fixed  to  take  place  in  two  days, 
as  my  arrangements  in  her  favor  could  not  be  settled  in  a 
shorter  time.  In  a  long  and  confidential  conversation,  I 
promised  her,  if  I  were  spared  and  circumstances  admitted, 
to  return  this  way  in  a  year  and  find  her  out  wherever  she 
might  be.  I  gave  her  letters  of  introduction  to  my  parents, 
if  she  should  be  disposed  to  continue  her  journey  so  far. 
I  had  all  the  terms  upon  which  the  parties  were  to  journey 
or  reside  together  drawn  up  and  executed  with  legal  exact- 
ness, and  the  whole  plan  was  settled  on  the  footing  of  serv- 
ices rendered  on  the  one  part,  and  full  compensation  on  the 
other.  She  afterward  had  sufficient  reason  to  see  the 
prudence  of  these  precautions. 

I  hesitated  how  to  inspire  in  her  confiding  nature  a 


The  Parting.  349 

sufficient  degree  of  caution  about  putting  her  property  in 
these  people's  power,  without  at  the  same  time  inspiring  a 
distrust  of  them  unfavorable  to  her  peace  and  enjoyment 
while  in  their  society.  I  endeavored,  generally,  to  insinu- 
ate that  it  would  not  be  safe  for  her  to  measure  human 
nature  by  the  standard  of  her  own  heart;  that  man  was 
everywhere  and  under  all  circumstances  a  being  so  intrin- 
sically selfish,  and,  at  the  best,  so  liable  to  be  actuated  by 
mixed  motives,  that,  for  her  own  independence  and 
comfort,  she  ought  to  hold  her  affections,  her  con- 
fidence and  her  property  as  much  as  possible  in  her 
own  control;  and  that  little  had  ever  been  lost  by 
distrusting  appearances  and  being  slow  in  confidence. 
In  fact,  I  turned  sage  and  philosopher,  and  gave  the 
sweet  girl  as  many  grave  maxims  to  regulate  her  de- 
portment as  the  Don  did  Sancho  when  he  sent  him  away 
to  govern  his  oil  land. 

When  I  had  brought  my  chapter  of  maxims  to  an  end,  she 
turned  her  melting  eye  full  upon  me.  "And  how  came  you 
to  know  so  much  about  human  nature,"  said  she,  "and  bad 
human  nature,  too  ?  I  know  that  you  have  not  drawn  from 
your  own  heart.  Have  you  seen  a  great  deal  of  evil? 
Can  there  be  cause  for  distrust  of  people  who  always  seem 
to  have  heaven  in  their  eye?  My  dear  brother,  you  would 
tremble  if  you  knew  how  near  I  have  been,  during  the  past 
night,  for  I  slept  not  a  moment,  coming  to  the  resolution 
to  accept  the  alternative  that  you  have  placed  in  my  power. 
This  must  be  a  bad  world.  Every  one  says  so.  How  tran- 
quil and  confiding  I  have  always  been  with  you?  Why 
should  we  part  now?"  "Indeed,  Jeannette,"  I  answered, 
"propose  that  question  to  your  own  heart."  "It  must  be," 
she  replied,  "and  I  will  remember  every  word  you  have 
said,  and  when  I  want  to  be  cautious  and  prudent,  I  will 
think  of  you.  One  thing  I  advise  you.  Woman  is  change- 


350  Robert  Gordon. 

able,  they  say.  Unless  you  wish  to  be  burdened  with  a  wife, 
depart  quickly.  Another  thing  I  propose,  and  I  am  sure 
you  are  too  kind  to  hesitate,  and  that  is,  to  divide  my  for- 
tune with  you.  My  dear  father,  while  living,  intended 
to  have  made  you  equal  with  us  in  this  division.  There 
were  then  three ;  and  there  is  now  but  one.  The  reasons  for 
carrying  his  wishes  into  effect  have  been  gathering  weight ; 
and  in  offering  you  this  I  am  not  thinking  of  compensa- 
tion for  kindnesses  that  are  beyond  price;  but  simply  car- 
Tying  into  effect  the  wishes  of  my  father."  To  this  I 
replied  that  to  a  soldier  of  fortune,  rushing  into  a  contest, 
in  a  revolution  so  full  of  danger  and  uncertainty,  money, 
beyond  my  immediate  wants,  was  of  no  use,  and  to  that  ex- 
tent she  knew  that  I  was  already  supplied.  But  I  promised 
that,  on  my  return,  I  would  converse  with  her  on  the  sub- 
ject and  consent  to  anything  that  would  give  her  pleasure. 
The  only  return  I  could  make  for  so  generous  a  proposal 
was  to  offer  her  the  services  of  Fergus,  so  far  as  I  could  in- 
duce him  to  accompany  her;  and  his  services  would  be  to 
her  invaluable.  To  this  she  replied,  that  fond  as  she  was 
of  Fergus,  and  much  as  he  would  remind  her  of  me,  that 
she  could  never  consent  to  take  from  me  so  faithful  a 
friend,  and  one  who  would  be  so  necessary  to  me. 

As  he  had  always  manifested  a  wish  to  go  to  the  United 
States,  I  mentioned  to  him  my  purpose.  Said  I,  "Fergus, 
you  have  always  been  wishing  to  go  to  my  country.  I  have 
no  need  of  a  servant  where  I  am  going;  nor  do  I  wish  to 
take  you  into  any  dangers.  You  can  now  go  on  to  my 
country  with  Jeannette,  and  all  the  kindness  and  fidelity 
you  show  to  her  will  be  more  than  done  to  me."  'He 
scratched  his  head  and  appeared  to  be  in  a  study  for 
a  moment.  But  Jeannette  was  away,  and  he  felt 
himself  at  liberty  to  say  all  that  was  in  his  heart. 
"Why,"  said  he,  "yer  honor  seems  to  want  to  get 


The  Parting.  351 

rid  of  me,  and  I  know  I  am  of  no  great  account. 
Yer  country  must  be  a  good  country,  for  I  have 
heard  it  for  certain  that  whisky  is  but  little  dearer 
than  water,  and  that  every  man  is  at  least  as  high  as 
captain.  Jeannette  is  a  sweet,  good  girl,  and  the  pret- 
tiest but  one  in  the  world.  I  would  give  her  three  fingers 
of  either  hand  any  day.  But,  God  love  yer  honor,  I 
would  give  ye  my  whole  body,  and  my  blood  and  bones 
into  the  bargain.  If  yer  honor  turns  me  away,  good. 
But  yer  honor  don't  think  I'm  such  a  coward  as  to  be 
afraid  of  the  Dons.  I  go  with  yer  honor,  come  devil, 
come  dobbie.  Further,  your  honor,  I  don't  like  that  queer 
minister-man,  at  all,  at  all.  Bother  him !  don't  his  voice 
twang  in  his  nose  like  a  trumpet?  Do  yer  think  he 
didn't  ask  me  my  religion?  Ay,  and  I  told  him  my 
father's  to  be  sure.  And  then  he  run  on  such  a  rig !  Oh ! 
Bother  him,  he  turned  my  brain  round  like  a  smoke- jack. 
But  for  one  thing  the  devil  will  have  him,  that's  certain. 
He  said  that  if  I  worshiped  the  saints  (Saint  Patrick 
among  them)  I  should  go  to  hell!  Think  of  that,  yer 
honor !  I'm  no  coward,  but  I'd  rather  fight  the  Dons  than 
go  with  such  a  man." 

The  remainder  of  the  time  until  we  parted  Jeannette 
passed  for  the  most  part  with  me  in  conversations  so 
affectionate  and  solemn  that  they  were  not  soon  forgotten. 
The  morning  they  started  I  aided  her  to  mount  her 
horse.  Fergus  wept  like  a  child.  The  minister  uttered  his 
deep  farewell.  Neither  Jeannette  nor  myself  trusted  our 
feelings  to  words  or  looks.  I  received  the  final  pressure 
of  her  hand  and  heard  the  receding  tramp  of  their  horses 
die  away  in  the  distance.  You  may  imagine  the  loneliness 
of  my  apartment  when  I  returned  to  it  and  found  it  empty. 


352  Robert  Gordon. 


CHAPTEE  XXIV. 

AMONG  FRIENDS  AND  ENEMIES. 

A  REGIMENT  was  making  up  in  Coahuila  for  the  City  of 
Mexico  and  the  service  of  Iturbide.  There  were  some  ad- 
venturers from  the  United  States  in  the  regiment.  The 
members  generally  professed  to  be  patriots,  and  they  gladly 
received  me  as  a  volunteer  among  them.  The  society  of 
my  compatriots,  and  still  more  of  Fergus  was  some  relief 
to  my  mind  in  the  bitterness  of  Jeannette's  loss.  But  how 
dreary  did  the  selfish  and  heartless  society  about  me  seem 
in  comparison  to  hers.  As  we  drew  near  to  Durango 
another  train  of  thoughts  began  to  supplant  those  of  lone- 
liness and  solitude.  My  heart  beat  more  rapidly  at  every 
step.  Everything  began  to  bring  Isabel  before  me.  The 
new  position  of  things  in  which  her  father's  family  were 
placed  might  abate  something  of  the  lofty  tone  of  his  feel- 
ings, and  I  entertained  hopes  in  spite  of  myself.  Fergus, 
too,  was  delighted  with  the  thought  of  having  the  range  of 
his  fat  kitchen  once  more.  Judge  of  our  disappointment, 
when,  on  entering  Durango,  I  inquired  for  the  Conde,  and 
found  that  he  and  his  family  had  been  summoned  by  the 
new  government  to  Mexico,  under  penalty  of  proscription 
and  confiscation  of  property  in  case  of  refusal. 

The  father  of  Dorothea  met  me  in  the  street  and  insisted 
upon  my  accompanying  him  home.  He  there  brought 


Among  Friends  and  Enemies.          353 

down  the  chronicle  of  events  to  the  present  time,  and  he 
gave  me  a  connected  view  of  all  that  had  happened  while  I 
was  in  the  mountains.  Dorothea  was  the  same  dashing  and 
gay  young  lady  that  I  had  formerly  known  her,  equally 
fond  of  dress  and  display;  equally  kind  and  ready  to  for- 
give my  want  of  taste  and  gallantry  to  this  time,  and  re- 
ceive me  still,  and,  if  I  still  continued  blind,  equally  ready 
to  console  herself,  and  look  out  for  another.  When 
she  saw  that  I  was  determined  to  go  on  to  Mexico,  she 
caused  to  be  prepared  for  me  many  little  articles  of  the  first 
necessity,  and  furnished  me  with  many  things  for  comfort, 
and  the  ordinary  ornaments  of  a  soldier  and  begged  me  to 
accept  them  in  memory  of  her.  In  all  this  kindness  there 
were  few  words  and  little  circumlocution.  All  seemed  to 
be  mercantile  and  matter-of-fact  business.  Her  father, 
too,  undoubtedly  fulfilling  her  wishes,  offered  me  a  purse 
with  soldier-like  frankness.  When  I  informed  him  that  my 
purse  was  yet  well  filled,  he  smiled,  shook  his  head,  and  re- 
marked that  in  this  country  a  handsome  young  man  that 
was  well  liked  with  the  ladies  had  nothing  to  fear. 

I  might  give  you  a  sketch  of  the  particulars  of  my  jour- 
ney from  Durango  to  the  City  of  Mexico,  but  it  would  be- 
tray me  into  details  beyond  my  purpose.  To  take  a  retro- 
spective view  of  what  had  happened  in  the  centre  of  this 
empire,  where  I  had  not  yet  been,  would  be  equally  foreign 
to  my  plan. 

The  regiment  with  which  I  had  marched  joined  the  im- 
perial army  at  the  City  of  Queretaro,  and  Fergus  and  I 
continued  our  course  alone  to  Mexico.  Traveling  at  our 
leisure,  I  omitted  no  opportunity  to  gratify  the  eye  and 
imagination  as  we  went  along. 

The  City  of  Mexico,  though  on  an  elevated  table  of  more 
than  seven  thousand  feet  above  the  level  of  the  sea,  has 
still  the  appearance  of  occupying  a  low,  marshy  situa- 


354  Robert  Gordon. 

tion,  as  in  fact  it  does.  It  has  been  more  than  once 
inundated  by  the  accumulated  water  of  the  lakes  during 
the  rainy  season.  I  was  within  a  league  of  this  celebrated 
city  before  I  had  a  distinct  view  of  it;  and  then  the  wide 
circuit,  over  which  arose  so  many  spires  and  turrets,  and 
above  which  lay  the  murky  smokes,  and  the  dim  mist  of 
a  city,  gave  me  a  magnificent  idea  of  its  extent.  None  of 
the  cities  of  my  own  country  raise  so  much  promise  in 
proportion;  for  the  Catholic  cities  have  a  greater  number 
of  spires  than  the  Protestant  cities.  The  approach  to 
this  city,  as  is  the  case  generally  with  the  Spanish  cities 
in  America,  is  mean;  and  you  are  led  to  them  by  clay 
cabins,  through  muddy  lanes,  where  hundreds  of  do- 
mestic animals  dispute  the  mud  and  dust  with  the  pass- 
ing traveler.  But  all  this  only  forces  the  immediate  con- 
trast of  magnificence  and  splendor  more  strongly  on  the 
eye.  Travelers  competent  to  compare  have  said  that  few 
cities  in  the  world  exceed  this  in  magnificence  of  its  build- 
ings. Every  one  has  heard  that  this  is  the  city  of  churches, 
and  notwithstanding  my  raised  expectations,  the  number, 
grandeur  and  solidity  of  these  colossal  structures  were 
matters  of  astonishment. 

There  was  an  appearance  of  a  fete  and  display  in  the 
streets  and  squares  as  we  rode  slowly  through  them.  The 
coronation  of  the  Emperor  had  not  long  since  taken  place. 
.The  forced  rejoicings  of  that  occasion  were  hardly  over, 
before  there  was  an  illumination  for  three  nights  in  suc- 
cession, on  account  of  a  recent  victory  that  the  Emperor's 
troops  had  gained  over  some  patriot  guerillas.  We  arrived 
on  the  second  evening  of  this  illumination.  It  was  pro- 
duced with  colored  lights  and  had  a  most  brilliant  and 
gaudy  effect.  As  we  rode  leisurely  along  the  magnificent 
streets,  crowded  with  people,  the  greater  part  of  them 
glittering  with  lace,  while  their  dress  terminated  in  rags, 


Among  Friends  and  Enemies.          355 

I  felt  what  every  traveler  of  any  sensibility  has  felt,  on 
arriving  in  a  strange  city,  with  double  force,  the  solitude 
of  my  own  condition,  in  comparison  with  these  moving 
thousands^  so  joyous  and  gay,  who  have  their  affinities, 
even  the  miserable  lepers  their  circles  of  friendship,  that 
lie  together  under  their  open  sheds.  In  this  vast  city 
there  was  but  a  single  family  that  I  knew,  and  with  that 
family,  pride,  with  a  multitude  of  other  considerations, 
forbade  me  from  attempting  to  renew  my  acquaintance, 
unless  advances  on  their  part,  or  very  different  circum- 
stances on  mine,  should  call  for  its  renewal.  I  spent  so 
much  of  the  evening  in  riding  about  the  city,  comparing 
its  gaiety  and  brilliance  with  my  own  loneliness,  that  the 
night  was  closing  in  before  we  had  found  a  shelter  in 
which  to  spend  it.  Here  I  found  my  knowledge  of  the 
language  to  be  of  infinite  service.  That,  and  my  wearing 
the  costume  of  the  country  prevented  me  from  exciting 
distrust  and  suspicion  as  a  stranger.  I  was  directed  to 
that  splendid  inn,  called  "Sociedad  Grande,"  and  there  I 
obtained  lodgings  for  myself  and  Fergus.  From  an 
American  gentleman  of  high  standing,  who  had  long 
resided  in  the  city,  and  who  now  had  lodgings  at  this 
inn,  I  obtained  a  succinct,  but  lucid  view  of  things,  as 
they  were  at  present  in  Mexico. 

Iturbide  appears  to  have  been  a  soldier  of  fortune, 
possessing  the  single  requisite  of  personal  bravery.  When 
taken  from  the  field,  and  there  he  seems  to  have  been 
properly  competent  only  to  a  subordinate  command,  he 
shows  a  miserable  destitution  of  every  requisite  quality 
of  a  ruler.  His  learning  was  very  meager  and  supersti- 
tious. His  vacillating  policy  was  at  once  mean,  rash, 
timid  and  cruel.  Chieftain  after  chieftain  had  been  sacri- 
ficed. I  learned  here  that  the  brave  and  noble  Morelos 
had  fallen  a  sacrifice  to  the  new  order  of  things.  My 


356  Robert  Gordon. 

amiable  friend,  Don  De  Oli,  was  minister  of  war,  and 
the  deeper  counsels  of  the  father  Jerome,  united  with  his, 
were  supposed  to  sway  the  measures  of  the  imperial  govern- 
ment. This  intelligence  enlightened  me  in  a  moment, 
as  to  the  ground  I  had  to  expect  any  honorable  place 
in  the  present  order  of  things.  These  men  ruling  the 
star  of  the  ascendant,  it  was  even  questionable  if  I  were 
safe  in  the  city.  On  a  very  little  inquiry,  I  was  clearly 
impressed,  that  an  honest  man  could  have  no  part  or  lot 
in  this  matter,  and  had  nothing  to  do  but  to  get  away  as 
fast  as  possible  from  the  country  or  remain  here  in  pro- 
found concealment. 

The  Gazette  of  the  morning  after  my  arrival  contained 
a  long  and  pompous  account  of  the  illumination  of  the 
preceding  night,  the  rejoicings  of  the  people,  and  a  ball, 
graced  with  the  presence  of  the  imperial  family.  I  was 
reading  along  with  careless  indifference,  and  wading 
through  the  string  of  titled  guests,  when  my  eye 
was  arrested  and  fixed  upon  the  name  of  Dona  Isabel, 
who  was  mentioned  as  the  brightest  star  of  the  constella- 
tion of  beauties.  The  comforting  addition,  of  her  being 
engaged  to  his  Excellency,  the  minister  of  war,  and  shortly 
to  be  united  to  him,  was  given  as  the  report  of  the  evening. 
There  were  many  other  details,  equally  agreeable  and 
refreshing.  It  was  in  fact  the  common  report  of  the  city, 
and  the  beauty,  accomplishments,  and  wealth  of  the  lady 
were  matter  of  common  discussion  at  the  tables  in  the 
Sociedad  Grande. 

My  first  thought  was  to  fly  from  the  city,  which  became 
hateful  to  me,  and  to  return  and  overtake  Jeannette,  before 
she  should  have  contracted  indissoluble  engagements  with 
another.  But  I  found  the  influence  of  some  unaccountable 
motive  still  detaining  me  here.  I  spent  this  and  the  follow- 
ing day  in  wandering  about  the  city,  viewing  its  churches 


Among  Friends  and  Enemies.          357 

and  towers,  its  curious  collections  of  plants,  aqueducts,  its 
Alameda,  its  astonishing  contrasts  of  meanness  and  mag- 
nificence, opulence  and  poverty.  I  believe  no  other  place 
on  the  earth  presents  them  to  the  eye  in  a  manner  equally 
glaring.  I  could  have  spent  weeks  in  these  meditations, 
if  my  heart  had  been  more  tranquil. 

On  returning  to  my  lodgings  this  evening,  Fergus 
informed  me  that  a  note  had  been  left  for  me,  in  my 
absence,  and  that  he  had  vainly  endeavored  to  find  out 
the  bearer,  or  trace  the  mode  of  its  conveyance.  "But," 
said  he,  "maybe  yer  honor  can  make  out  the  hand."  In 
truth,  I  knew  the  fair  and  beautiful  characters  as  soon 
as  they  met  my  eye.  I  broke  it  open,  and  read  with 
trembling  eagerness,  these  words  in  the  handwriting  of 
Dona  Isabel:  "Your  life  is  in  danger,  if  you  again  go 
abroad  unarmed,  and  alone  in  the  dark.  Why  should 
you  expose  yourself  without  occasion  or  necessity?  You 
have  been  traced  out  by  enemies.  Be  always  armed,  and 
with  your  servant.  It  were  better  that  you  change  your 
residence  and  give  out  that  you  were  leaving  the  city." 

I  pressed  the  lines  to  my  lips,  and  blessed  her  as  my 
guardian  angel,  and  began  to  think  that  the  life  in  which 
she  interested  herself  so  much,  was  worth  preserving.  It 
convinced  me,  too,  that,  retired  and  unknown  as  I  had 
thought  myself,  I  had  been  discovered,  not  only  by  this 
fair  friend,  but,  I  doubted  not,  ~6y  my  old  enemies,  the 
father  and  minister  of  war,  who,  it  appeared,  would  never 
forgive  my  having  twice  saved  their  lives.  I  was  aware 
of  my  danger,  from  their  pre-eminence.  But  I  had 
encountered  so  many  dangers,  and  come  off  safe  from 
them,  that  I  began  to  feel  a  kind  of  reckless  confidence 
in  my  destiny.  At  least,  I  said  to  myself,  that  the  man 
who  aspired  to  love  Isabel  ought  not  to  allow  invisible 
terrors  to  make  him  seek  a  retreat.  I  imparted  that  part 


358  Robert  Gordon. 

of  the  billet  which,  intimated  that  I  was  in  danger,  to 
Fergus.  Our  suspicions  were  mutually  confirmed  by  his 
informing  me  that  a  stranger  had  accosted  him  the  pre- 
ceding evening,  in  Spanish,  and  had  made  the  most 
minute  inquiries  about  me,  my  place  of  residence,  my 
associates,  and  my  objects  here.  Our  conclusion  was,  that 
Don  De  Oli  had  found  us  out,  and  that  his  object  was  to 
destroy  me  by  assassination,  of  which  I  did  not  doubt 
him  capable.  I  had  too  much  reason  to  fear,  if  he  could 
not  succeed  that  way,  I  might  be  arrested  with  other  state 
victims,  who  were  daily  led  to  the  prisons,  and  there 
destroyed,  or  heard  of  no  more.  It  was  the  fashion  for 
every  one  in  the  city  to  go  armed,  where  not  a  night 
passed  without  assassinations.  I  armed  myself  and  Fergus 
to  the  teeth,  and  was  determined  that  our  lives  should 
not  be  cheaply  sold. 

This  evening  I  met  one  of  the  American  officers  who 
had  been  with  me  in  the  battle  of  Palos  Blancos,  near 
San  Antonio.  He  had  escaped  from  that  battle,  and 
made  his  way  to  Mexico,  and  now  resided  in  the  city,  in 
considerable  estimation.  I  did  not  approve  of  his  method 
of  gaining  wealth.  He  had  won  large  sums  at  a  gambling 
establishment  in  the  city,  and  was  soliciting  an  extensive 
grant  of  land  from  the  Mexican  government.  He  informed 
me,  in  confidence,  that  he  was  associated  with  a  body  of 
patriots  in  the  city,  of  increasing  influence,  and  embracing 
some  of  the  most  influential  men  in  the  city.  He  informed 
me  of  their  number,  plans,  and  resources,  and  invited  me 
to  accompany  him  to  their  meeting.  It  passed  at  present 
under  the  name  of  an  Inquiring  Society,  and  though  the 
government  had  some  suspicions  of  the  object  of  the  meet- 
ings, either  there  was  not  enough  known  to  form  a  ground 
of  accusation,  or  such  was  the  strength  and  importance 
of  the  members,  that  the  government  deemed  ft  most 


Among  Friends  and  Enemies.          359 

prudent  to  wink  at  their  proceedings.  I  knew  that  there 
was  little  danger  of  committing  myself  any  more  with 
the  government  than  I  had  already,  and  as  my  feelings 
inclined  me  to  the  patriots,  I  determined  to  attend  the 
meeting. 

My  compatriot  introduced  me  to  the  meeting.  It  was 
in  a  large  subterranean  apartment,  in  a  retired  quarter  of 
the  city,  which  had  belonged  to  the  assay  department, 
and  had  been  used  as  a  chemical  laboratory  for  private 
experiments  upon  minerals.  Here  were  met  those  patriot 
chiefs  who  were  dissatisfied  with  the  assumed  powers  of 
Iturbide.  I  was  introduced  by  the  American  officer  as 
one  who  had  fought  honorably  for  the  patriot  cause  in 
the  internal  provinces.  It  happened  that  a  number  of  my 
compatriots  who  had  escaped  from  the  unfortunate  fight 
of  Palos  Blancos  were  there,  and  they  all  bore  a  strong 
testimony  to  the  manner  in  which  I  had  conducted  myself 
in  that  and  other  affairs.  I  was  received  with  great 
applause  and  consideration.  The  meeting  contained,  beside 
Americans  and  provincials,  more  than  thirty  distinguished 
citizens.  Among  them,  plainly  but  superbly  dressed,  and 
in  all  the  conscious  dignity  of  his  intrinsic  character,  was 
the  interesting  exile  of  the  mountains,  who  presided  over 
this  meeting.  From  the  kindling  of  his  eye,  and  that 
cheering  look  of  recognition,  which,  under  such  circum- 
stances, gave  it  such  a  value,  the  whole  assembly  saw  that 
we  had  met  before.  In  that  way  which  can  be  done  only 
by  superior  minds,  he  briefly  alluded  to  that  meeting,  and 
he  remarked  that  a  man  who  had  been  so  proscribed,  and 
as  I  had  been  made  known  to  him  in  the  loneliness  of 
his  retreat  in  the  mountains,  in  the  discharge  of  such 
tender  and  interesting  duties,  as  brought  me  to  his  retreat, 
could  not  be  deemed  unworthy  of  the  confidence  of  this 
meeting.  That  he,  for  his  part,  welcomed  with  a  full 


360  Robert  Gordon. 

heart  every  native  of  the  country  of  Washington,  that  the 
cause  called  not  for  mercenary  and  unprincipled  adven- 
turers from  that  or  any  other  country,  but  for  educated 
and  well  principled  young  men,  who  had  imbibed  the  free 
air,  the  independence  and  freedom  of  that  great  and 
rising  country;  that  he  deemed  the  accession  of  such  men 
to  their  cause  an  omen  for  good.  The  meeting  seemed 
to  expect  me  to  express  my  feelings,  and  I  did  it  with 
the  utmost  frankness.  I  averred  that  though  I  had  been 
unfortunate  in  the  cause  of  the  patriots,  I  was  still  as 
much  attached  to  it  as  ever.  I  admitted  that  I  had  visited 
the  city,  expecting  to  find  things  very  different  from  their 
present  situation,  and  that  it  had  been  my  intention,  in 
that  case,  to  offer  my  services  to  Iturbide,  supposing  that 
the  revolution,  headed  by  him,  was  favorable  to  the  liberty 
of  the  people,  the  great  cause  which  had  been  and  always 
would  be,  dear  to  me;  that  since  my  arrival,  and  inquiry 
into  the  character  of  the  man  and  the  measures  now  prev- 
alent, I  had  no  more  confidence  in  this  government  than 
in  that  against  which  I  had  been  in  arms;  that  I  felt 
my  heart  united  with  all  honorable  and  well  principled 
men,  in  fair  and  decided  opposition  to  the  government; 
that  I  would  aid  with  all  my  powers  any  measures  which 
would  tend  to  overthrow  it,  and  rear  on  its  ruins  a  con- 
stitutional government  of  the  people's  choice.  I  was 
cheered  with  great  and  unmerited  applause,  and  was 
immediately  admitted  as  a  representative  from  the  internal 
provinces.  I  was  called  upon  to  give  my  views  of  things 
in  that  quarter,  as  related  to  the  objects  of  the  meeting, 
the  inclination  of  the  people,  and  generally,  the  power, 
wisdom,  courage  and  resources  of  the  patriots.  On  all 
these  points  I  made  a  brief  statement,  which  comprised 
all  that  I  knew  which  would  throw  any  light  upon  their 
counsels. 


Among  Friends  and  Enemies.          361 

The  point  chiefly  in  discussion  was  the  extent  of  the 
resources  of  the  patriots  in  various  parts  of  the  country; 
and  whether  the  country  was  yet  ripe  for  open  opposition 
to  the  imperial  government.  A  general  arrest  of  the  most 
patriotic  members  of  the  legislative  council  had  just  taken 
place,  and  some  of  the  members  were  of  the  opinion  that 
the  excitement  created  by  that  arrest  afforded  a  favorable 
opportunity  to  raise  the  banner  of  liberty.  After  various 
opinions,  some  in  favor  and  some  against  this  measure, 
had  been  advanced,  my  judgment  was  aske'd  for.  I  spoke 
at  first  of  a  general  union,  remarking  that  so  many 
attempts  had  proved  abortive,  because  the  insurgents  had 
not  been  simultaneous,  and  had  not  understood  one 
another;  the  enemy  had  been  allowed  to  destroy  them  in 
detail  because  they  had  not  been  united.  I  was  for  culti- 
vating a  general  correspondence,  for  ascertaining  with 
precision  the  pulse  of  the  country,  and  avoiding  those  pre- 
mature and  rash  undertakings  that  had  hitherto  been  so 
fatal.  This  was  the  main  theme  of  my  address,  and  I 
fortified  the  principal  points  in  it  by  a  strong  reference 
to  the  scenes  in  which  I  had  been  personally  conversant. 
The  speech,  such  as  it  was,  gained  for  me  the  favor  of 
some  of  the  most  distinguished  members,  and  was  received 
with  unbounded  applause.  My  views  happened  to  coincide 
strongly  with  those  of  Conde  De  Alva,  the  wealthiest 
and  most  influential  man  in  the  city,  or  perhaps  in  the 
Empire.  He  was  at  this  time  corresponding  secretary 
of  the  meeting,  in  fact,  its  organ,  and,  next  to  Victoria, 
its  most  efficient  cement. 

After  the  meeting  closed,  I  was  highly  complimented 
by  my  American  compatriots,  and  received  many  civilities 
from  the  members  generally.  I  had  many  pressing  invita- 
tions from  them,  to  come  and  reside  with  them  during 
jny  stay  in  the  city.  Among  others,  I  received  the  most 


362  Robert  Gordon. 

gratifying  notice  from  Conde  De  Alva.  He  made  very 
particular  inquiries  respecting  my  objects,  pursuits,  and 
employments,  and  the  probable  time  of  my  stay  in  the  city. 
He  gradually  unfolded  to  me  his  motive  for  making  so 
many  inquiries.  He  informed  me  that  he  had  been  in 
search  of  a  private  secretary,  who  could  translate,  and  who 
understood  different  languages,  and  was  a  soldier.  He 
was  pleased  to  say  that  the  fluency  and  correctness  with 
which  I  spoke  their  language,  turned  his  thoughts  upon 
me  from  the  first  moment  of  my  speaking;  that  in  the 
course  of  the  debates,  he  had"  made  inquiries  of  one  of  my 
compatriots,  in  whom  he  had  confidence,  respecting  me, 
and  the  result  had  been  highly  satisfactory,  particularly, 
as  he  had  been  informed,  that  I  had  been  regularly  edu- 
cated, and  was  grammatically  acquainted  with  English 
and  French.  He  proceeded  to  state  the  nature  of  tfie 
duties,  and  the  proposed  salary;  and  closed  by  asking  me 
if  I  were  willing  to  accept  it. 

I  answered,  that  from  present  impressions,  it  would  be 
precisely  the  employment  I  should  have  selected,  but  that 
I  wished  a  couple  of  days  for  deliberation  upon  the 
subject,  and  that  in  the  meantime,  for  further  information 
respecting  my  character  and  qualifications,  I  referred  him 
to  the  Conde  De  Olmedo.  He  added  that  the  reference 
was  very  satisfactory,  and  that  his  family  was  in  the  habit 
of  visiting  with  the  Conde's.  He  proffered  the  customary 
civilities  of  his  house,  and  proposed  to  show  me  the  city 
and  its  amusements,  until  I  made  my  selection.  This 
offer,  upon  deliberation,  seemed  more  and  more  gratifying. 
The  employment  was  both  respectable  and  lucrative.  The 
protection  was  that  of  a  man  so  high  in  rank  and  influence, 
that  although  he  was  known  to  be  viewed  with  a  suspicious 
eye  by  Iturbide,  even  he  was  afraid  of  him,  and  brought 
no  articles  of  impeachment  against  him.  I  should  have 


Among  Friends  and  Enemies.          363 

in  this  office,  an  ostensible  vocation,  and  should  not  feel 
myself  on  a  footing  with  those  numerous  gambling  and 
speculating  adventurers  from  the  United  States.  My 
heart  whispered,  too,  that  here  I  should  either  see  or 
hear  from  Dona  Isabel. 

The  Conde  De  Alva  was  a  Creole,  and  his  forefathers 
were  born  in  this  country.  His  income  was  almost  without 
limit.  Under  the  royal  regime  he  had  been  considered 
the  richest  man  in  the  Spanish  dominions,  and  his  manner 
of  spending  his  income  was  generous  and  princely.  He 
was  the  high-minded  and  munificent  patron  of  every  gen- 
erous and  noble  undertaking,  and  held  out  a  sustaining 
hand  to  genius  and  taste.  He  was  young  and  of  fine 
appearance,  and  his  family  was  reputed  the  most  beautiful 
in  the  Empire.  His  eldest  daughter,  Clara,  ranked,  in 
general  estimation,  in  beauty  to  Dona  Isabel.  She  was 
scarcely  fourteen,  an  age,  however,  at  which  a  young  lady 
is  considered  marriageable  in  that  country.  For  it  is  a 
well  known  fact,  that  in  this  country  both  the  mind  and 
the  form  are  developed  some  years  earlier  than  at  the 
North. 

At  the  assigned  time,  I  waited  on  the  Conde,  and  was 
shown  up  the  marble  flight  of  stairs  in  front  of  his  palace ; 
then,  traversing  a  long  portico,  supported  by  Ionic  columns 
of  marble,  and  shaded  in  front  by  laurels  and  palms,  I  was 
conducted  to  an  anteroom,  set  apart  for  the  proposed 
office,  and  connected  with  a  splendid  and  extensive  library. 
I  was  here  received  by  the  Conde  with  marked  politeness. 
He  informed  me  that  he  had  felt  satisfied  before  the 
inquiry,  but  that  he  had  called  on  the  Condesa,  the  Conde 
being  out,  and  mentioned  that  I  had  referred  him  to  that 
family.  He  added,  "I  obtained  not  simply  a  character.  I 
will  not  task  your  modesty  by  particulars,  but  if  I  may 
believe  her,  you  are  a  Hercules,  a  slayer  of  monsters,  an 


364  Robert  Gordon. 

eighth  wonder  of  the  world."  I  closed  the  contract  with 
him,  and  was  conducted  into  my  new  office.  My  employ- 
ment consisted  much  in  translating,  furnishing  draughts 
of  replies  for  him  to  use,  and  suggesting  alterations  before 
he  signed  certain  papers.  He  wished  me  to  add  to  these 
duties,  that  of  librarian  and  keeper  of  his  very  extensive 
cabinet  of  minerals,  fossils,  and  specimens  in  natural 
history.  I  had  an  apartment  in  the  palace,  and  boarded 
with  some  young  gentlemen  of  respectable  Spanish  fam- 
ilies, who  belonged  to  his  establishment,  and  had  had 
offices  in  the  mining  department.  They  were  at  present 
out  of  employment,  the  Conde  not  having  chosen  that 
any  member  of  his  family  should  hold  any  office  under  the 
Imperial  government. 

My  duties  were  neither  painful  nor  servile,  and  the  dis- 
charge of  them  made  me  of  necessity  acquainted  with 
the  geography  and  statistics  of  the  country,  the  dis- 
tance, importance  and  the  population  of  places,  and  gave 
me  a  great  deal  of  exact  local  knowledge  of  the  country. 
Every  facility  that  I  could  desire  to  make  myself 
acquainted  with  this  great  and  interesting  country,  was 
now  offered,  and  not  offered  in  vain;  for  I  put  myself  in 
earnest  to  these  studies,  every  moment  in  which  I  was 
not  occupied  in  the  duties  of  my  office.  In  the  morning 
I  walked  to  visit  the  natural  and  artificial  curiosities  of 
the  city,  and  in  the  evening,  always  accompanied  by  Fergus, 
and  fully  armed,  to  the  theatre.  The  decorations  and 
scenery  were  splendid,  and  having  said  this,  I  need  say 
no  more  about  the  theatre. 

I  was  again  in  those  tranquil  and  satisfied  days,  of 
which  history  has  nothing  to  record.  I  only  heard,  inci- 
dentally, from  Isabel;  and  then  it  was  only  the  repetition 
of  the  common  report,  that  she  was  shortly  to  be  married 
to  the  minister  of  war.  I  had  seen  that  I  was  passing  the 


Among  Friends  and  Enemies.          365 

scrutiny  of  the  Conde,  preparatory  to  more  or  less  con- 
fidence. His  increasing  marks  of  confidence  and  kindness 
were  indications  that  I  was  rising  in  his  estimation.  I 
made  a  new  arrangement  of  his  books,  manuscripts  and 
drawings,  and  a  new  catalogue  of  his  cabinet  of  minerals 
and  natural  history.  I  introduced  new  order,  in  fact, 
created  in  all  these  departments  a  new  and  complete 
system.  The  greater  facility  of  arriving  at  information 
in  this  new  arrangement  was  obvious  at  the  first  inspection. 
The  Conde  was  delighted,  and  said  that  my  services  were 
invaluable. 

I  had  been  a  fortnight  in  the  family,  when  I  was 
invited  to  dine  with?  it.  I  felt  it  a  duty,  that  I  owed  to 
my  patron,  to  be  modestly,  but  richly  dressed,  in  the 
customary  costume  of  a  private  Spanish  gentleman.  At 
the  appointed  hour  I  was  ushered  in  with  a  numerous 
company  of  invited  guests,  among  whom  were  many  dis- 
tinguished characters  from  the  United  States,  and  some 
from  England,  to  the  vast  and  noble  dining-hall.  Very 
few  of  them  could  speak  Spanish,  and  I  was  called  upon 
to  discharge  the  duty  of  an  interpreter.  I  was  introduced 
to  the  Condesa,  who,  though  the  mother  of  a  number  of 
children,  the  eldest,  as  I  have  remarked,  turned  of  thirteen, 
did  not  herself  seem  much  advanced  of  twenty.  She  was 
fresh,  blooming  and  beautiful,  and  by  her  affability  and 
gentleness,  made  the  dignity  of  her  rank  and  place  for- 
gotten in  the  deeper  and  more  interior  respect,  due  to 
condescension  and  goodness.  The  children  were  as  beauti- 
ful as  doves,  and  after  dinner,  were  admitted  into  the  room, 
in  all  the  buoyant  and  frolicsome  gaiety  of  childhood. 
The  eldest  daughter  had,  as  the  phrase  is,  been  brought 
out,  and  she  had  the  usual  brilliant  eyes,  a  small  light 
figure,  a  beautiful  face,  rather  pale,  with  a  slight  olive 
tinge,  such  as  mark  most  of  the  matured  countenances  of 


366  Robert  Gordon. 

young  ladies  that  I  had  seen  in  the  city.  She  went  througa 
the  ceremonies  of  introduction  to  the  company,  with 
perfect  ease  and  familiarity  of  conscious  rank  and  beauty, 
and  with  something  of  the  manner  of  one  that  had  been 
caressed  too  much,  and  a  little  spoiled  by  friends  and 
dependents  of  the  family.  When  I  was  led  to  her,  she 
eyed  me  from  head  to  foot,  with  laughing  ease  and  com- 
posure. I  felt  my  cheek  glow,  when  I  was  conducted  from 
her  to  the  Condesa  and  Dona  Isabel,  and  I  noticed  the 
conscious  and  rather  confused  smile  in  her  face,  when  we 
were  introduced  as  entire  strangers.  The  two  lovely  young 
ladies  were,  of  course,  the  principal  objects  of  attention, 
after  the  Conde  and  his  lady.  The  dinner  passed  off  as 
such  great  and  formal  affairs  generally  do.  It  was  im- 
possible for  even  the  perfect  ease  of  the  Conde  and  his 
lady  to  banish  something  of  formality  and  restraint,  which 
was  increased  by  the  circumstance,  that  most  that  was 
said  required  translation.  The  dinner  was  excellent, 
the  wine  produced  something  more  of  ease,  and  a  more 
unrestrained  flow  of  conversation.  It  is  well  known  that 
no  dessert  in  the  world  can  equal  that  of  this  city,  and  the 
whole  closed  with  coffee. 

The  foreign  guests  generally  retired,  and  I  took  my 
hat  to  depart  with  the  rest.  It  was  understood  that  the 
ceremony  of  the  meeting  was  over,  and  Clara  came  skip- 
ping and  told  me  that  she  had  her  father's  orders  that 
I  must  defer  my  studies  for  this  evening,  and  hold  myself 
wholly  at  the  disposal  of  the  ladies;  for  that  there  was 
to  be  a  promenade  in  tKe  garden.  It  may  be  conceived 
that  this  was  the  pleasure  above  all  others,  that  I  should 
have  desired,  and  yet,  knowing  that  Isabel,  and  hearing 
that  the  minister  of  war  would  be  there,  I  felt  no  little 
embarrassment  at  the  thought  of  such  a  promenade.  The 
perfect  composure  and  assurance  of  Clara  put  me  at 


Among  Friends  and  Enemies.  367 

ease.  I  followed  her  and  a  number  of  Spanish  gentlemen 
into  the  garden. 

The  sun  was  low  and  the  birds  were  cheering  them- 
selves in  his  parting  rays.  A  delightful  coolness  was  in 
the  air.  In  the  distance  were  seen  the  snowy  summits 
of  San  Puebla,  their  conical  tops  rising  far  above  the 
clouds  and  emitting  from  their  volcanic  apertures  columns 
of  smoke,  that  in  the  rarefied  atmosphere  arose  to  im- 
mense heights.  A  sea  of  mountains  in  all  directions 
bounded  this  lovely  vale.  In  contrast  with  such  natural 
sublimity  was  the  beautiful  garden,  the  perfection  of  art, 
seconded  by  nature,  here  so  fertile  in  what  is  suited  to  a 
garden.  Shades,  verdure,  fountains  spouting  water  high 
in  the  air,  which  fell  back  with  a  delightful  murmur  into 
marble  basins;  statues,  cascades,  arbors  and  serpentine 
walks,  pavilions  and  temples,  in  short,  all  the  luxuries  of 
opulence  and  all  the  beauties  of  landscape  were  scattered 
over  this  beautiful  place. 

Various  groups  and  solitary  couples  were  sauntering 
here  and  there;  and  the  gay  flow  of  conversation  and  the 
reckless  laugh  indicated  that  all  enjoyed  this  charming 
place.  The  Condesa  De  Olmedo  and  the  Condesa  De  Alva 
walked  together  arm  in  arm.  Seeing  me  alone,  Clara 
left  the  circle  of  which  she  had  been  the  centre  and  came 
to  me.  "Confess,  sir/'  said  she,  "that  these  mountains, 
this  cool  air,  this  pretty  garden,  these  fine  birds,  and  finer 
ladies,  are  a  much  more  amusing  study  than  those  books 
that  you  pore  over  forever  in  my  father's  library.  I  am 
afraid  I  shall  crowd  too  many  good  things  at  a  time  upon 
you,  but  I  am  going  to  lead  you  to  a  young  lady  that,  I 
believe,  has  seen  you  before,  and  I  conjecture  that  the 
meeting  will  not  be  disagreeable  to  either."  Saying  this, 
she  led  me  to  Isabel,  placing  me  between  them  as  we 
strolled  along  the  alleys  of  the  garden.  We  had  scarcely 


368  Robert  Gordon. 

recovered  from  the  emotions  produced  by  this  meeting, 
after  so  long  an  absence,  and  had  not  yet  come  in  pos- 
session of  the  full  powers  of  speech,  when  I  saw  my  evil 
genius  in  an  opposite  alley,  and  Don  De  Oli,  with  the 
measured  insolence  of  his  new  dignity,  approached  us. 
Isabel  turned  pale,  and  the  arm  which  I  held  trembled.  I 
returned  as  slight  a  bow  as  his,  and  a  very  meaning  look 
of  recognition  passed  between  us.  "I  came,"  said  he,  "to 
Dona  Isabel,  at  the  request  of  her  father,  to  solicit  the 
honor  of  her  company  in  this  promenade;  but  I  perceive 
she  is  so  respectably  protected,  and  so  happily  occupied, 
that  I  suppose  I  may  dispense  with  my  offer.  I  shall  only 
remark  to  her,  that  this  gentleman's  name  is  in  my  depart- 
ment on  the  list  of  malcontent  and  suspicious  foreigners. 
I  should  have  supposed,  with  the  pledges  given  to  her 
father,  in  recent  conversations,  that  she  would  not  have 
been  disposed  thus  to  commit  herself  and  him  with  the 
government.  Past  events  have  made  this  gentleman  but 
too  well  known  to  us,  and  she  cannot  but  be  aware  how  par- 
ticularly disagreeable  he  must  be  to  me,  and  to  the  gov- 
ernment." Clara  surveyed  him  while  he  was  making  this 
speech,  to  the  centre  and  from  head  to  foot.  It  was  obvi- 
ous that  the  minister  of  war  was  neither  agreeable  nor 
terrible  to  her.  She  made  him,  however,  a  very  low  bow. 
"Is  this  the  face,"  said  she,  "which  your  excellency  wears 
when  you  woo  the  young  lady  ?  You  must  see  that  you  are 
particularly  agreeable  to  her  at  this  moment.  As  to  this 
gentleman,  sir,  he  happens  to  be  at  this  time  under  the 
protection  of  my  father.  You  are  a  very  great  man,  no 
doubt.  But  I  would  hope,  that  such  protection  will  se- 
cure him  from  menaces  and  rude  treatment,  especially 
with  ladies,  among  whom  he  is  an  invited  guest." 

"Your  father's  name,"  he  replied,  "is  a  sufficient  se- 
curity for  his  family,  but  will  not  be  considered  by  us  a 


Among  Friends  and  Enemies.          369 

sEelter  for  all  the  factious  and  traitorous  foreigners  that 
he  shall  choose  to  harbor/' 

"Now,  that  is  fine,"  she  replied,  "and  these  airs 
wonderfully  becoming  to  the  minister  of  war."  I 
here  remarked  that  I  had  nothing  to  reply  to  this  kind  of 
language  in  this  place.  The  gentleman,  no  doubt,  remem- 
bers with  pleasure  some  former  rencontres  between  us; 
that  I  could  not  condescend  to  spar  and  call  names  in  this 
company,  but  hoped  *we  should  have  the  pleasure  of  a 
more  private  interview,  for  all  such  conversations.  Clara 
added  before  he  could  reply: 

"Yes,  I  dare  say  the  gentleman  can  take  care 
of  himself  in  such  a  meeting.  But  just  now  I  wish 
him  to  have  a  little  private  chat  with  this  young 
lady.  I  begin  to  suspect  that  they  have  known  each 
other  before.  There  seem  to  be  some  strong  dislikes 
between  them,  and  I  want  them  to  be  a  little  more  ac- 
quainted, that  they  may  shake  off  their  prejudices  and 
make  peace.  I  dare  affirm  that  half  an  hour's  tete-a-tete 
in  this  pretty  garden  will  bring  all  things  right  between 
them.  Now,  therefore,  be  it  known,  I,  Clara  De  Alva, 
daughter  of  the  Conde  De  Alva,  ordain  and  declare,  that 
they  shall  have  a  private  walk  together.  I  dare  trust 
them,  if  his  name  is  on  your  dark  list;  and  I  wish  at  the 
game  time  the  honor  of  a  private  walk  with  his  excellency 
the  minister  of  war."  Saying  this  with  mock  gravity,  she 
took  his  arm,  reluctant  as  he  seemed,  and  led  him  away. 

I  was  once  more  alone  with  Isabel,  and  it  was  obvious 
that  our  time  was  precious.  "The  circumstances  of  our 
former  acquaintance,  and  the  confidence  you  once  reposed 
in  me,  Isabel,"  said  I,  "justify  me  in  asking  how  you  stand 
at  present  with  that  insolent  and  detestable  man.  I  cer- 
tainly may  be  permitted  to  ask  if  the  reports  in  relation 
to  you  and  him  are  true,  why  you  have  taken  so  much 


370  Robert  Gordon. 

cruel  interest  in  me  as  to  intimate  that  I  am  in  danger. 
If  you  are  indeed,  as  they  report,  to  marry  him,  where 
can  be  my  danger?  Or  what  is  life  afterward  to  me?" 
"I  am  not  to  marry  him,  sir,"  said  she.  "And  if  I  were, 
I  doubt  not  you  would  be  both  well  and  happy  afterward. 
Let  me  be  frank  with  you.  You  know  well  that  there  is 
neither  affectation  nor  pretence  in  the  interest  I  take  in 
you.  I  have  been  informed  how  you  parted  from  Jean- 
nette,  and  all  my  good  opinion  of  you  is  renewed.  You 
are,  no  doubt,  acquainted  with  the  history  of  the  late 
revolution  that  has  made  that  weak  and  wicked  man, 
Iturbide,  what  they  call  an  emperor.  Don  De  Oli,  after 
my  father's  return  to  Durango,  was  treated  coolly  by  us 
all.  I  had  hoped,  after  my  father  had  resigned  his  com- 
mand in  disgust,  that  he  was  awakened  from  his  dreams 
of  ambition,  and  that  I  should  be  persecuted  on  account 
of  this  man  no  more.  But  he  conceived  a  deeper  and 
deadlier  aim  of  coming  at  his  object,  and  his  revenge. 
He  and  the  father  confessor  left  us  almost  without  notice, 
and  made  their  way  to  this  city.  They  gave  in  their  adhe- 
sion to  the  government,  and  timed  it  so  well  as  to  secure 
for  the  one  the  place  he  now  fills,  and  for  the  other  the 
secret  but  efficient  direction  of  the  imperial  councils.  The 
first  knowledge  we  had  of  this  new  order  of  things  was  an 
official  notice,  signed  with  the  imperial  hand,  notifying 
my  father  that  he  must  come  up  to  the  imperial  city  and 
give  in  his  adhesion  on  pain  of  confiscation.  We  well 
knew  that  there  would  be  little  ceremony  about  executing 
this  threat  in  case  of  refusal.  The  wretch  knew  pre- 
cisely what  string  to  harp  on.  I  would  not  be  understood 
to  imply  the  slightest  want  of  filial  respect  for  my  father. 
I  could  yield  anything  to  his  wishes,  even  life;  anything 
but  this  detested  union.  It  is  said  to  be  in  the  order  of  na- 
ture that  men,  as  they  advance  in  age,  become  more  at- 


Among  Friends  and  Enemies.          371 

taehed  to  wealth  as  they  lose  their  relish  for  everything 
beside.  As  all  other  passions,  even  ambition  among  them, 
become  enfeebled,  all  his  desires  seemed  to  be  concentrated 
in  that  single  point — regard  for  his  immense  possessions. 
My  father  obeyed  the  summons,  and  carried  us  with  trem- 
bling haste  to  the  capital.  The  wretch  now  became  the 
favorite  of  the  emperor,  and  plays  continually  upon  my 
father's  fears  of  losing  his  estates.  He  suspends  the  hor- 
rors of  confiscation  continually  over  our  heads,  and  keeps 
my  father  as  true  to  his  purpose  respecting  this  detested 
union,  from  fear,  as  he  once  was  from  ambition. 

"My  father,  finding  it  useless  to  operate  upon  my  fears, 
like  Don  De  Oli  has  reversed  all  his  former  modes  of  in- 
fluence and  has  adopted  one  a  thousand  times  more  diffi- 
cult to  resist.  He  assumes  before  me  the  air  of  a  suppli- 
cant and  throws  himself  on  my  pity.  The  very  idea  of 
seeing  my  aged  father,  so  venerated  by  us  all,  one  so  high 
in  power,  and  so  used  to  submission  from  others,  himself 
assuming  the  attitude  of  a  supplicant  to  his  daughter,  is 
terrible  and  revolting.  He  calls  himself  a  forsaken  and 
dishonored  old  man,  hastening  to  the  same  end  with  so 
many  ruined  nobles  in  the  Old  World,  and  nothing  will 
prop  his  falling  fortunes  but  my  consent  to  this  union. 
He  points  me  to  the  consequences  of  drawing  down  upon 
him  the  wrath  of  the  weak  and  worthless  emperor.  Con- 
fiscation, poverty  and  disgrace  together,  he  assures  me, 
would  kill  him,  and  I  hardly  doubt  it.  My  mother  admits 
the  worthlessness  of  the  man,  and  hates  him  scarcely  less 
than  I  do,  and  yet  insists  that  there  are  emergencies  when 
a  good  child  will  yield  all  her  inclinations  and  devote 
herself  to  her  parents.  She  thinks  this  a  crisis  of  that 
kind.  But,  sir,  I  feel  that  I  have  not  this  spirit  of  self- 
sacrifice.  To  their  tears  and  entreaties  I  reply,  that  hat- 
ing, abhorring  him  as  I  do,  they  may  bid  me  die,  but  not 


372  Robert  Gordon. 

marry  him.  I  propose  to  them,  and  I  consent,  to  tempo- 
rize; and  I  promise  so  far  to  conquer  my  loathing,  as  to 
soothe  him.  At  present  they  seem  satisfied  with  this,  and 
their  object  and  mine  is  to  gain  time.  We  all  hope  they 
will  not  be  able  to  maintain  themselves  on  their  dizzy  emi- 
nence long.  In  conformity  to  this  plan,  I  task  my  feel- 
ings, to  dance  with  him,  and  receive  his  attentions  in  pub- 
lic. I  even  allow  him  to  hope  that  if  he  is  not  precipitate, 
and  allows  me  my  own  time,  I  may,  perhaps,  in  the  end 
think  favorably  of  him.  It  is  horrible  violence  to  my  feel- 
ings. Would  your  Protestant  system  of  morals  hold  this 
deception  guilty  ?  All  this  succeeded  well  enough  until  he 
found  you  were  here.  He  discovered  it  by  the  emissaries 
of  the  police  sooner  than  I  knew  it.  The  horrid  flashing 
of  his  eye  and  the  fiend-like  expression  of  his  countenance 
told  me  what  he  felt  on  knowing  that  you  were  here.  He 
cautioned  me  against  renewing  my  acquaintance  with 
you,  and  expressed  a  suspicion  that  I  was  privy  to  your 
arrival,  and  intimated  that  he  had  both  the  will  and  the 
means  to  dispose  of  you.  'Certainly,'  said  I,  'Don  De  Oli, 
you  must  estimate  me  very  highly  to  think  of  winning  my 
regard  by  threatening  his  assassination.  I  say  nothing  of 
what  he  has  done,  and  what  he  has  forborne  to  you.  To 
me,  you  must  think  it  a  short  way  to  my  heart,  to  murder 
that  man.'  The  malice  of  his  heart  was  sufficiently  visible 
in  his  pale  countenance.  But  he  affected  to  be  cool,  and 
remarked  that  I  could  not  he  so  little  read  in  human 
nature,  as  not  to  attribute  all  his  feeling  to  love  and  its 
natural  attendant,  especially  in  a  Spanish  bosom,  jeal- 
ousy. *Why  else/  he  asked,  'should  I  have  any  antipathy 
to  him?'  I  answered,  in  the  bitterness  of  my  spirit,  'The 
natural,  instinctive  and  everlasting  antipathy  of  bad  to 
good,  base  to  noble,  hell  to  heaven.'  You  see,  sir,  in  what 
courteous  terms  we  conduct  our  wooing,  and  how  little 


Among  Friends  and  Enemies.          373 

reason  you  have  to  be  jealous,  if  I  might  flatter  myself  that 
you  could  entertain  such  feelings  toward  me.  The  time 
is  precious.  I  am  ready  to  believe  you  love  me.  I  am  but 
too  sure  of  my  own  feelings.  Your  arrival,  so  unexpected, 
has  inspired  in  me  the  extreme  of  both  joy  and  sorrow. 
But  destiny,  I  should  say  Providence,  I  trust,  watches  over 
us,  for  you  are  fixed  just  where  I  could  have  wished  you  to 
be.  Iturbide  is  afraid  of  your  patron.  I  have  conversed 
with  him.  I  have  done  more.  I  have  laid  open  my  heart 
to  his  lady,  and  the  family  are  your  friends.  If  I  can  only 
gain  time,  this  imperial  throne  will  crumble.  You  are 
now  in  the  right  place  to  gain  glory  and  distinction.  The 
times  call  for  such  characters  as  yours,  and  you  are  in  the 
right  place  to  avail  yourself  of  all  chances.  I  need  not 
urge  you  to  cultivate  the  favor  of  the  family  in  which  you 
live.  You  will  yet  be  distinguished ;  my  heart  tells  me  so 
Only  get  a  name,  and  gain  power,  and  the  hand  of  Isabel 
will  be  at  your  disposal  as  her  heart  has  long  been." 

If  strong  emotions  always  render  us  eloquent,  I  was 
eloquent.  I  was  probably  extravagant  for  a  character  that 
she  had  rather  considered  as  verging  to  the  side  of  cold- 
ness; for  she  smiled  as  she  said,  "This  is  very  pretty  and 
quite  enough.  I  believed  it  all  before.  For  a  while,  sir, 
you  must  be  guided  by  me.  Be  prudent  and  you  shall 
have  your  turn  after  a  while.  It  comports  with  my  plan 
to  return  and  finish  the  evening  with  that  detested  man. 
I  do  not  wish  you  to  endure  the  torture  with  me.  Avoid 
him  as  much  as  you  can."  Saying  this  she  led  the  way 
to  rejoin  Clara  and  Don  De  Oli. 

When  we  came  up  with  them,  I  made  a  motion  to  with- 
draw. "Oh,  no,  sir,"  said  Clara,  "you  do  not  so  easily  es- 
cape the  service  of  the  ladies,  when  you  are  once  fairly  en- 
listed under  their  banner,"  and  she  withdrew  her  arm  from 
Don  De  Oli  and  took  mine  and  we  walked  away. 


374  Robert  Gordon. 

"How  I  hate  that  man !"  said  Clara,  as  soon  as  we  were 
by  ourselves,  "and  there  is  no  love  lost,  either.  The  loss  of 
his  office  and  influence  has  turned  the  head  of  the  poor  old 
Conde,  Isabel's  father.  To  save  his  estates  he  is  perse- 
cuting that  sweet  girl  to  marry  this  wretch.  As  soon  as 
she  came  here  I  saw  that  she  not  only  hated  him,  but 
loved  another.  She  has  confessed  to  me  that  you  are  he 
that  has  robbed  her  of  her  heart.  I  am  much  astonished 
at  her  taste,  though  it  must  be  conceded  that  you  are  a 
little  more  tolerable  than  the  other.  But  then,  to  palliate 
the  matter  a  little,  she  says  that  you  are  brave,  romantic 
and  good,  and  that  you  have  saved  her  from  savages, 
floods,  assassins,  and  I  know  not  what.  While  she  was 
making  you  such  a  reliever  of  distressed  damsels,  I  wonder 
it  never  occurred  to  her  that  I  might  have  a  liking  to  you 
myself."  "You?"  I  asked  with  surprise.  "Yes,  and 
why  not  I  ?  I  have  a  heart,  sir,  as  well  as  another.  And 
suppose  it  should  be  so,  what  then?"  "Why,  then,"  I 
replied,  "I  suppose  your  father  would  dismiss  me  immedi- 
ately, and  shut  you  in  a  dark  closet,  and  feed  you  on  slen- 
der diet  until  you  recovered  your  heart's  health  and  your 
senses."  "Your  humble  servant,"  said  she,  "I  perceive 
that  you  think  me  a  child,  and  understand  not  the  affair. 
Why,  sir,  my  mother  was  married  before  she  was  of  my 
age,  and  so  are  half  of  the  titled  ladies  in  the  country. 
Not  at  all,  sir.  I  see  you  are  not  gifted  as  a  prophet. 
My  father  would  look  grave,  my  mother  would  shed  tears 
and  make  a  speech,  and  I  should  first  be  sullen,  and  then 
fall  to  weeping,  and  to  make  me  smile  again  they  would 
consent,  and  you  would  be  the  happy  man.  But,  mind 
you,  sir,  nothing  of  this  is  likely  to  happen.  In  the  first 
place,  I  love  Isabel  too  well.  In  the  next  place,  infant 
as  you  think  me,  I  know  men  too  well." 

I  had  heard  how  rapidly  the  female  form  and  mind  are 


Among  Friends  and  Enemies.          375 

developed  in  southern  countries,  but  this  most  astonish- 
ing specimen  of  the  fact  struck  me  with  surprise.  But 
it  was  an  agreeable  one.  She  ran  on  with  the  volubility  of 
a  spoiled  child.  If  I  presumed,  for  the  moment,  on  the 
tone  of  her  mind,  she  seemed  to  be  perfectly  aware  of  it 
and  reversed  the  strain  of  her  conversation,  and  became 
sober,  sensible  and  at  times  rising  to  sentiment  and  dig- 
nity. Before  we  parted,  she  told  me  that  she  had  taken 
Isabel  and  me  under  her  particular  charge,  and  that  we 
should  see  each  other  as  often  as  possible. 

At  the  next  meeting  of  the  patriots  the  Conde  De  Alva 
read  a  dispatch  to  the  meeting,  announcing  that  the  re- 
publicans had  again  unfurled  the  banner  of  freedom  at 
Vera  Cruz.  Santa  Anna,  who  had  conferred  every  benefit 
upon  the  Emperor  and  had  been  one  of  the  principal  in- 
struments in  raising  him  to  the  throne,  had,  through  some 
of  the  intrigues  of  his  miserable,  misguided  court,  been 
dismissed  from  his  command  at  Vera  Cruz,  which  had 
been  conferred  on  him  as  a  reward  for  his  bravery  and 
services.  He  immediately  assembled  his  favorite  regiment 
and  placed  before  them  the  indignities  that  he  had  suf- 
fered, and  gave  them  a  strong  painting  of  the  cruelty  and 
perfidy  of  Iturbide;  and  he  closed  by  exhorting  them  to 
throw  off  his  yoke,  and  establish  a  government  of  the 
people.  The  speech  was  received  with  vivas,  and  the 
regiment  immediately  adopted  the  resolution. 

Soon  after  this  decisive  act  he  sent  a  letter  of  expla- 
nation to  the  Emperor,  reminding  him  of  all  he  had 
done  for  him.  He  adverted  with  indignation  to  the 
return  he  had  received,  and  declared,  by  the  last  act  of 
ingratitude,  he  considered  all  his  own  obligations  can- 
celed and  himself  called  upon  to  espouse  the  cause  of  a 
suffering  and  oppressed  people.  He  reproached  the  Em- 
peror for  his  acts  of  violence,  oppression  and  cruelty,  and 


376  Robert  Gordon. 

assured  him  that  the  people  would  never  again  be  in- 
duced to  trust  a  man  who  had  once  violated  all  his  prom- 
ises. For  himself,  he  declared  his  determination  to  form 
a  pure  and  simple  republic,  based  upon  the  rights  of 
man.  Finally,  he  counselled  IturbiHe  to  renounce  his 
assumed  government,  and  throw  himself  on  the  generosity 
of  the  people. 

There  were  many  debates  upon  the  question  whether 
the  country  was  ripe  for  the  insurrection,  and,  as  usually 
happens,  opinions  differed.  When  it  came  my  turn  to 
speak,  I  remarked  that,  happy  as  I  was  in  my  present 
employment,  I  should  not  feel  satisfied  while  the  banner  of 
freedom  waved  in  any  part  of  the  country,  and  that  I 
should  immediately  proceed  to  Vera  Cruz  to  offer  myself 
as  a  volunteer  in  the  corps  of  Santa  Anna.  A  number  of 
the  younger  members  of  the  meeting  followed  my  example, 
and  the  meeting  dissolved  amidst  acclamations  for  the 
cause.  The  Conde  expressed  regret  at  the  thought  of 
my  leaving  him,  but  cordially  approved  of  my  determina- 
tion, informing  me,  that  in  his  opinion  now  was  the  time 
to  act.  I  was  to  set  out  for  Vera  Cruz  with  a  considerable 
body  of  volunteers,  who  were  to  unite  with  others  at 
Puebla.  The  Conde  exacted  a  promise  from  me,  that 
when  the  campaign  closed  I  should  return  and  resume  my 
duties ;  and  in  the  meantime  invited  me  to  his  table  until 
I  departed.  In  this  situation  it  became  my  duty  to  escort 
his  daughter  to  public  places  and  the  theatre.  I  ac- 
companied the  family  to  balls,  and  was  treated  as  one 
domesticated. 

I  intimated  my  gratitude  and  surprise  to  Clara  at  this 
great  and  unearned  confidence.  She  explained,  in  her 
laughing  way,  the  cause  of  it.  "In  the  first  place/7  said 
she,  "my  parents  have  such  an  unbounded  confidence  in 
my  correctness  and  discretion,  that  pride,  as  well  as 


Among  Friends  and  Enemies.          377 

gratitude,  calls  upon  me  to  so  deport  myself  that  they  shall 
have  no  cause  to  repent  it.  In  the  next  place,  my  parents 
think  Isabel  the  next  immaculate  to  myself,  and  she  will 
have  you  to  be  such  a  paragon  of  purity,  decorum  and 
honor  that  no  harm  can  be  extracted  from  you.  Lastly, 
every  one  can  see  that  you  are  so  entirely  in  love  with 
Isabel,  that  you  might  stumble  upon  a  prettier  and  have 
no  eye  to  see  her/' 

It  was  rumored  that  Don  De  Oli  was  to  start  for  Vera 
Cruz,  to  take  command  of  the  imperial  forces  against 
Santa  Anna.  I  wished  to  remain  until  he  was  gone.  I 
had  seen  Isabel  but  once  since  our  first  interview,  and  then 
only  long  enough  in  private  to  learn  why  she  saw  me  so 
seldom;  that  it  was  according  to  her  plan  to  put  our  ene- 
mies off  our  track.  When  it  was  reported  that  he  had 
departed,  I  felt  my  breathing  a  little  easier,  and  hoped 
that  I  should  at  least  have  some  moments  with  Isabel 
before  I  departed  for  Vera  Cruz. 

One  evening  as  Fergus  and  I  were  returning  from  the 
theatre,  departing  from  our  customary  caution,  and  think- 
ing that  perhaps  all  danger  was  past,  we  wandered  into  a 
dark  alley.  At  some  distance  from  the  lights  we  were 
attacked  by  three  or  four  desperadoes  in  the  dark,  with 
dirks  and  swords.  Fergus  was  slightly  wounded  in  the 
onset.  But  we  placed  ourselves  against  the  wall,  dis- 
charged our  pistols  upon  them,  for  we  were  both  well 
armed,  and  defended  ourselves  until  the  city  guards  came 
to  our  aid,  but  the  assassins  escaped.  I  had  no  doubt 
that  this  was  some  of  Don  De  Oli's  revered  care  of  my 
health. 

I  spent  the  afternoon  and  the  evening  of  the  day  pre- 
vious to  that  on  which  I  started  for  Vera  Cruz  in  the 
delightful  garden  of  the  Conde  with  Clara  and  Isabel. 
We  even  had  our  coffee  brought  to  us  and  took  it  together. 


378  Robert  Gordon. 

This  I  count  among  the  happiest  evenings  of  my  life. 
Isabel,  freed  from  apprehension,  at  least  during  the  ab- 
sence of  Don  De  Oli,  and  relieved  for  the  present,  from 
any  entreaties  from  her  father  relative  to  him,  had  once 
more  that  tranquil  and  delightful  manner  which  had  so 
won  my  interest  on  the  evening  of  the  thunder  storm. 
Our  intercourse  was  that  of  minds  that  had  long  been 
separated  and  that  now  united  with  an  eagerness  and 
delight  proportioned  to  the  obstacles  that  had  so  long 
impeded  it.  I  received  many  charges  from  both,  how  to 
deport  myself  as  regarded  my  society  and  exposures.  I 
could  not  have  desired  more  marks  of  confidence  and 
tenderness  from  either.  Each  gave  me  a  ringlet  of  her 
raven  locks  to  be  wrought  into  my  sword  belt,  thus  con- 
stituting me  their  champion.  Whenever  the  conversation 
became  gloomy,  or  turned  upon  the  exposures  and  dangers 
of  the  campaign,  Clara,  with  some  of  her  whimsical  re- 
marks, restored  us  to  cheerfulness.  At  the  same  time  that 
Isabel  charged  me  not  to  expose  myself,  they  both  bade  me 
not  return  without  glory.  Isabel  assured  me  that  she 
foresaw  that  this  campaign  would  be  decisive  of  our  fate. 
After  an  evening  too  happy  to  be  assorted  with  the  com- 
mon color  of  our  days  amidst  a  thousand  kind  wishes  for 
the  success  of  their  soldier  they  sent  me  away. 

From  the  Conde  I  had  the  most  flattering  letters  of  in- 
troduction to  Santa  Anna  and  the  other  chiefs,  proposing 
me  as  a  person  who  had  sustained  a  high  and  honorable 
command  in  the  patriot  service,  and  recommending  me  to 
a  similar  command  in  this  service.  He  gave  me  counsel 
with  paternal  kindness  and  seemed  to  take  in  me  almost 
the  interest  of  a  father.  With  an  affectionate  shake  of  the 
hand  from  the  Condesa  and  Clara,  and  with  benedictions 
and  kind  wishes  from  him,  I  started  once  more  a  soldier  of 
fortune  and  revolution  for  Vera  Cruz. 


Love,  the   Power  that  Conquers  All.      379 


CHAPTEE  XXV. 

LOVE,  THE  POWER  THAT  CONQUERS  ALL. 

I  THANK  you  for  the  invincible  patience  with  which  you 
have  listened  to  the  recital  of  my  adventures.  From  now 
on  iny  story  will  be  told  by  another.  You  have  had  to 
make  due  allowance  for  egotism.  You  will  have,  here- 
after, to  make  a  still  greater  for  a  more  blinding  passion. 

It  is  only  necessary  to  premise  that  Isabel  had  in  the 
convent  in  which  she  was  educated  a  lady  friend,  a  little 
older  than  herself,  between  whom  was  sworn  one  of  the 
eternal  friendships  of  young  ladies,  similarly  situated. 
They  were  the  companions  of  each,  other's  secret  hours, 
and  the  confidants  of  each  other's  secret  thoughts.  It 
so  happened  that  soon  after  the  Conde  De  Olmedo 
removed  his  daughter  from  the  convent  and  brought  her 
to  America,  this  young  lady  married  the  royal  commander 
of  the  castle  of  St.  John  d'Ulloa,  at  Vera  Cruz,  and  tra- 
versed the  ocean  with  her  husband  to  his  station.  With 
this  lady  Isabel  had  been  in  the  habit  of  constant  cor- 
respondence. Almost  every  mail  was  charged  with  the 
burden  of  their  secrets,  and  mutual  vows  of  everlasting 
friendship. 

These  letters  are  exact  copies  of  the  mind  of  Isabel, 
and  I  confess  that  I  continue  to  think  well  of  the  spirited 
and  warm  hearted  writer.  They  portray  neither  a  goddess 


380  Robert  Gordon. 

nor  even  an  immaculate  mortal,  but  a  lovely  woman,  with 
all  her  weaknesses  and  foibles.  I  only  selected  those  that 
keep  up  the  thread  of  my  narrative,  from  the  point  where 
I  leave  it.  I  should  add,  that  they  give  a  regular  chron- 
icle of  all  that  befell  her,  from  the  first  landing  on  the 
Mexican  shore,  to  her  residence  at  Durango.  After  her 
return  from  the  valley  of  the  Comanche,  I  have  been,  I 
find,  the  most  important  character  in  her  thoughts  and 
life.  I  am  quite  satisfied,  I  assure  you,  with  my  historian, 
for  I  find  my  ordinary  actions  transformed  into  ex- 
ploits. In  short,  sir,  read  for  yourself  and  make  your 
own  comments.  All  that  I  shall  say  further  is,  that  the 
name  of  Isabel's  fair  correspondent  at  St.  John  d'Ulloa  is 
Dona  Letitia  Sandoval,  and  that  I  was  afterward  hon- 
ored with  an  introduction  to  her,  and  found  her  ex- 
tremely beautiful  and  amiable.  I  leave  you  to  read  at 
your  leisure.  When  you  have  finished,  say  so,  and  I  am 
ready,  if  you  continue  so  minded,  to  eke  out  the  remaining 
chapter  of  my  history  up  to  this  time. 

MEXICO,  Feb.,  1824. 
MY  DEAREST  LETITIA: 

I  informed  you  in  my  last  letter  of  our  arrival  here 
from  Durango.  My  father  was  in  a  continual  fret  of  im- 
patience lest  we  should  not  arrive  in  season  to  anticipate 
the  decree  of  confiscation.  That  terrible  word  "confisca- 
tion!" There  is  nothing  on  earth  I  hate  like  Don  De 
Oli,  and  the  worst  name  I  can  call  him  is  Confiscation.  I 
am  wholly  unable  to  conceive  how  or  why  old  men  should 
become  so  intensely  fond  of  money  about  the  time 
they  cease  to  be  able  to  make  any  use  of  it.  I 
believe  he  loves  me,  as  the  next  best  thing  to  money 
and  the  power  he  has  lost.  As  to  my  dear,  good 
mother,  he  may  have  loved  her  once;  but  that  is 


Love,  the  Power  that  Conquers  All.     381 

a  thing  quite  gone  by.  Do  you  begin  to  love  your  husband 
less  than  at  first,  Letitia?  More  than  once,  on  the  way, 
he  looked  sufficiently  sternly  upon  me,  reminding  me  fre- 
quently that  if  I  had  not  been  a  perverse  and  disobedient 
child  I  should  have  been,  at  this  time,  lady  of  the  minister 
of  war,  and  he  perhaps  prime  minister.  All  would  have 
been  safe,  and  I  in  a  fair  way  to  ascend  the  topmost  round 
in  the  ladder  of  eminence.  I  have  found  the  advantage 
of  keeping  up  the  fair  ascendency  that  I  have  won,  when 
this  hated  subject  is  discussed.  So  I  told  him  that  he  must 
have  singular  notions  of  the  power  of  the  said  minister 
to  communicate  honor,  for  that  he  well  knew  that  he  was 
a  coward,  a  liar,  and  an  assassin;  and  I  know  not  if  I 
added  other  epithets;  but  I  had  plenty  more  in  my 
thoughts  and  I  told  him  that  if  it  would  comfort  him  to 
have  me  die,  I  was  ready  to  gratify  him,  but  not  in  that 
way.  Upon  the  word,  I  had  to  encounter  a  long  and  bit- 
ter philippic  by  way  of  comfortable  evening  domestic  con- 
fabulation. My  mother,  as  the  conversation  grew  some- 
times a  little  warm,  put  in  a  kind  of  neutral  interpolation, 
partaking  equally  of  assent  and  dissent,  attempting  to 
smooth  down  my  father's  brow,  and  remind  me  of  the 
rights  of  paternity.  Between  apprehensions  from  Indians, 
patriots,  robbers  and  royalists,  for  we  seemed  to  be  equally 
obnoxious  to  all,  and  this  last  and  most  horrid  of  all,  con- 
fiscation, I  had  but  an  uncomfortable  journey  to  the  city. 

We  arrived  safely  at  the  imperial  city  and  I  saw  his 
Excellency,  my  tormentor,  rolling  his  terrible  eyes  of  love 
at  me.  I  had  promised  my  father  to  do  everything  in  my 
power  that  would  tend  to  ward  off  the  terrors  of  confisca- 
tion, so  that  he  would  consent  to  my  plan  to  save  time.  So 
I  threw  into  my  manner  of  receiving  him  as  much  civility 
as  I  could  command.  And  then,  how  pleased  he  was,  even 
to  childish  delight.  I  must  believe  the  odious  being  loves 


382  Robert  Gordon. 

me.  How  earnestly  I  looked  around  among  the  thousands 
of  new  faces  to  see  if  my  beloved  was  not  among  them.  If 
there  be  anything  like  mutual  feeling  he  will  be  here,  and 
I  shall  see  him. 

We  have  one  of  the  noblest  houses  in  the  city,  suit- 
ably furnished.  I  was  presented  to  the  Emperor  as  the 
elected  of  his  favorite.  Oh,  what  an  Emperor!  A  per- 
son half  German,  half  Spanish,  the  everlasting  grin 
of  deceit  and  simpering  good  nature  on  his  face,  where, 
notwithstanding  all  his  efforts  to  counterfeit  dignity, 
licentiousness  and  low  breeding  are  indelibly  stamped 
upon  his  head. 

I  was  treated  with  great  favor  and  distinction  by  the 
Emperor  and  his  family.  In  the  first  ball  I  had  the 
superlative  honor  to  lead  the  dance,  and  for  the  remain- 
der of  the  evening  I  was  confined,  by  terms  of  treaty  with 
my  father,  to  the  detestable  Don  De  Oli.  The  men  were 
swarthy,  ugly,  savage  and  ignorant  beings ;  and  the  women 
yellow,  awkward  and  less  informed  than  the  men.  There 
were  some  brilliant  exceptions.  Among  these  was  the 
beautiful  and  accomplished  Condesa  De  Alva,  fair,  fresh 
and  blooming,  with  contentment  and  satisfaction  on  her 
brow.  She  is  young,  yet  has  six  children.  Clara,  the 
eldest,  is  but  little  more  than  thirteen,  yet  smart,  accom- 
plished and  beautiful.  In  conversing  with  her  you  have 
the  peculiar  interest  of  talking  with  one  so  infantine  that 
you  feel  the  ease  of  conversing  with  a  child.  Perhaps  at 
the  moment,  while  you  are  indulging  this  carelessness,  she 
flashes  upon  you  with  the  grace  and  wit  of  an  accomplished 
young  lady.  I  have  become  well  acquainted  with  her  and 
she  would  have  my  secrets.  She  gave  me  much  grave 
instruction,  and  bids  me  be  cautious  how  I  allow  my  hero 
to  appear  on  the  Mexican  theatre,  for  that  I  have  given  her 
such  an  estimation  of  him,  that  she  shall  be  tempted  to  try 


Love,  the  Power  that  Conquers  All.     383 

to  supplant  me.  Her  family  is  one  of  the  most  distin- 
guished in  Mexico.  The  Conde  enjoys  the  highest  possible 
consideration,  and  in  fact  his  immense  influence  turns  the 
balance  between  the  hundred  contending  factions.  He  is 
too  simple  in  his  manners,  too  much  informed,  too  intrin- 
sically noble,  to  be  in  favor  with  the  Emperor,  and 
Iturbide  both  dreads  and  hates  him ;  and  he  owes  his  safety 
only  to  the  circumstance  that  the  Emperor  dares  not  touch 
him.  They  call  him  a  "Republican."  Would  you  believe 

it,  I  am  more  than  half  patriot  myself.     Finding 

a  patriot,  and  the  Conde  De  Alva  a  patriot,  and  Iturbide 
and  his  minister  of  war  what  they  are,  who  would  not  be  a 
patriot  ? 

Amidst  all  the  beautiful  scenery  of  this  city  I  want 
something.  I  want  all.  I  need  the  presence  of  him  who 
makes  me  feel  that  I  have  a  heart;  him,  whose  manner  of 
a  good  and  generous  act  makes  me  perceive  that  man  can 
be  noble ;  him,  whose  glance  upon  these  mountains  causes 
my  eye  to  kindle  with  enthusiasm;  him,  whose  voice  and 
manner,  inspire  within  me  high,  and  I  might  almost  dare 
to  say,  holy  thoughts.  In  fact,  away  from  him,  I  drag 
to  these  scenes  of  amusement  for  others,  a  body — they 
tell  me  it  is  well  enough  formed;  but  it  wants  a  soul.  I 
feel  the  bland  and  delicious  atmosphere.  I  look  at  the 
mountains,  pouring  out  the  columns  of  smoke  from  under 
their  everlasting  snows.  I  contemplate  the  most  beautiful 
and  the  richest  valley  in  the  world.  I  hear  the  foolish 
people,  who  have  nothing  else  to  say,  talk  of  all  this,  as 
they  do  of  the  weather,  and  say,  "How  fine  this  is !"  I 
stupidly  echo  the  remark,  "How  fine  this  is!"  In  short, 
I  have  little  reason  to  hope  that  I  shall  ever  see  him  again, 
and  I  am  equally  incapable  of  enjoying  nature  or  myself. 
Yours  as  ever,  ISABEL. 


384  Robert  Gordon. 

MEXICO,  February,  1824. 
DEAREST  LETITIA: 

Our  Lady  of  the  Pillar  preserve  us!  I  have  seen  him 
again,  and  my  heart  beats  even  now  so  loud,  that  it  dis- 
turbs my  thoughts  and  my  pen.  I  never  needed  a  second 
look  to  assure  me  that  it  was  the  very  same  man.  I  had 
been  driven  to  the  Alameda,  with  our  old  duenna,  who 
was  ill,  in  company  with  my  daily  tormentor.  The 
carriage  windows  were  up  on  account  of  the  air.  He  was 
walking  in  the  street,  and  an  Irishman,  formerly  a  servant 
of  my  father,  was  walking  behind  him.  How  well  I 
remember  the  calm  and  lofty  port,  the  countenance  so 
animated,  benevolent,  and  mild!  I  gave  a  shriek,  before 
I  recollected  myself;  and  then  it  was  too  late,  for  my 
countenance  told  the  tale  of  what  I  had  seen.  His  prying 
and  malignant  eye  soon  discovered  in  the  group  the  person 
who  had  arrested  mine.  He  expressed  ironical  regret  at 
the  cause  of  my  alarm,  and  muttered  something  implying 
that  he  would  not  have  such  terrible  objects  in  the  way  to 
annoy  me.  I  gave  him  a  look  that  I  trust  he  understood, 
and  told  him  that  to  filial  regard  to  my  father,  he  must 
be  sensible,  he  owed  all  my  endurance  of  his  presence. 
"I  know,"  I  cried,  "that  you  are  equally  cowardly  and 
vindictive.  But,  venture  to  touch  a  hair  of  his  head  and 
I  will  move  heaven  and  earth  until  an  avenger  of  his  cause 
shall  be  found.  Not  that  I  have,  or  expect  to  have  any 
personal  interest  in  his  preservation  beyond  the  common 
interest,  which  all  ought  to  have  in  preserving  the 
virtuous  and  the  good.  In  this  country  of  distraction 
and  crime,  we  ought  to  preserve  at  least  one  good  person. 
If  you  really  wish  endurance  from  me,  much  more,  if 
you  expect  kindness,  expect  it  only  from  using  moderation 
and  forbearance  toward  him.  Make  no  use  of  your  big 
powers  toward  him,  and  in  the  same  proportion,  you  will 


Love,  the  Power  that  Conquers  All.     385 

be  sure  of  my  taking  a  less  active  part  in  his  favor.  If 
you  will  promise  me  with,  a  pledge,  on  which  I  might  rely, 
that  you  would  avail  yourself  of  your  influence  to  protect 
him,  I  should  be  willing  to  promise  in  turn,  never  to  see 
him  again." 

He  promised,  but  there  was  a  sneer  in  his  countenance, 
that  the  intense  interest,  which  I  took  in  his  welfare, 
should  be  his  pledge  and  his  guaranty,  and  that  he  would 
not  molest  him,  or  allow,  so  far  as  his  influence  extended, 
that  others  should.  He  intimated,  that  if  the  event  so 
desired  by  my  parents,  and  himself,  could  take  place,  he 
would  not  only  protect,  but  charge  himself  with  the  pro- 
motion of  the  young  man.  I  thanked  him  for  his  kind  in- 
tentions toward  him,  but  assured  him  that  if  the  promotion 
of  the  young  man  in  question  depended  upon  that  issue, 
much  as  I  wished  it,  it  was  likely  to  be  slow  in  taking 
place.  The  conversation  here  dropped,  I  little  heeded 
the  promise  he  made,  although  in  my  eagerness  to  shield 
him,  I  would  have  made  almost  any  engagement.  I  imme- 
diately put  every  agent  in  my  power  in  operation,  to  find 
where  he  was.  I  soon  discovered  that  he  was  stopping  at 
the  Sociedad  Grande;  and  since  then,  what  think  you  is 
my  chief  amusement?  He  has  an  Irish  servant,  Fergus, 
who  used  to  live  with  my  father,  who  is  shrewd,  faithful, 
and  devoted  to  me^,  next  to  his  master.  This  man  finds 
some  moments  every  day  in  which  he  visits  me.  He  repeats 
to  me  all  that  his  master  says,  does,  and  even  thinks.  You 
may  be  sure  they  are  all  about  me.  I  know  that  all  this 
is  moonshine,  but  it  satisfies  my  desires.  Fergus  promises 
never  to  disclose  a  word  of  all  this  to  his  master.  He 
assures  me,  that  in  consequence  of  my  intimation  of  danger, 
his  master  always  goes  armed,  and  takes  him  with  him, 
and  that  he  avoids  evening  walks,  so  that  he  can  be  in 
little  danger  from  my  admirer,  except  he  be  brought  to  a 


386  Robert  Gordon. 

mock  trial  and  legal  assassination.  My  apprehension  for 
his  safety  is  much  moderated.  Meanwhile  the  Conde  De 
Alva,  who  is  a  naturalist,  chemist,  and  philosopher,  and 
engaged  in  extensive  correspondence,  and  is  moreover  sus- 
pected of  having  a  band  of  patriots  at  his  disposal,  wants 
a  private  secretary.  Mr.  Gordon,  among  his  other  qualifica- 
tions, is  a  profound  scholar,  to  my  taste  a  doctor  of  all 
sciences,  acquainted  with  many  languages,  in  short, 
a  great  "Apollo/'  It  occurred  to  me  in  a  moment,  that 
this  was  the  very  man  the  Conde  wanted.  Under  his  pro- 
tection, he  would  be  perfectly  secure.  They  dare  not  touch 
the  Conde  or  his  friends.  So  I  introduced  myself  to  the 
Condesa,  and  told  her  all  about  this  wonderful  young  man. 
I  am  sure  I  did  not  undervalue  him,  for  she  had  all  the 
while  a  meaning  smile,  and  occasionally  added,  "Keally! 
Surprising!  Is  it  so?  He  is  an  astonishing  man,  sure 
enough !"  To  be  perfectly  frank,  I  told  her  my  secret.  I 
was  deeply  affected  as  I  did  it.  She  kissed  me,  and  gave 
a  tear  to  my  feelings  and  story,  and  promised  me  that  she 
would  speak  to  the  Conde  of  the  matter.  Clara,  the  little 
witch,  had  heard  all.  She  expressed  a  great  desire  as  she 
said,  to  see  the  eighth  wonder  of  the  world. 

Clara  has  a  prodigious  name,  and  is  prettier  than 
a  mere  beauty.  The  man  must  be  a  phcenix  who  could 
stand  her  fascinations,  if  she  chose  to  coquette  with  him. 
I  trust  to  her  pride,  and  I  trust  to  his  steadiness,  for  I 
am  sure  he  loves  me.  More  than  all,  in  this  family  he  will 
be  improving,  safe,  and  happy,  and  I  will  not  be  so  selfish 
as  to  have  a  thought  beyond  that.  He  was  invited  to 
attend  the  meeting  over  which  the  Conde  and  Victoria 
preside,  and  had  the  good  fortune  to  greatly  distinguish 
himself  in  the  debates.  The  Conde  offered  him  the  place 
of  secretary.  He  accepted  the  offer,  and  has  been  in  the 
discharge  of  his  duties  for  some  days.  The  family  judge 


Love,  the  Power  that  Conquers  All.     387 

of  him  as  I  thought  they  would.  The  Condesa,  while  pro-* 
nouncing  his  eulogy,  sportively  tells  her  husband  that  it 
was  a  dangerous  experiment  to  bring  such  a  fascinating 
man  into  his  family.  Clara  puts  up  her  pretty  lip,  and 
appears  not  to  hear,  when  in  the  presence  of  her  parents; 
but  when  she  speaks  of  him  to  me,  she  actually  blushes, 
and  manifests  a  sentiment  in  common  with  all  that  see 
him. 

In  continuation. 

I  have  been  with  him.  We  took  a  walk  in  the  beautiful 
garden  of  the  Conde's  with  Clara.  My  heart  was  beginning 
to  expand  with  the  highest  consciousness  of  joy,  and  Clara 
was  chattering  away  to  him  in  her  customary  fashion,  when 
what  bird  of  evil  omen  should  light  down  upon  us  but 
Don  De  Oli.  Both  men  started  as  though  they  had 
seen  a  serpent.  Don  De  Oli  affected  the  bashaw,  the  man 
in  power,  and  talked  to  the  other  in  a  style  of  menace. 
I  wish  I  could  describe  the  look  which  he  gave  him  in 
return.  It  said  plainly  enough,  "Your  worthlessness  and 
the  presence  of  the  ladies  are  your  protection."  Clara,  the 
dear  child,  has  somehow  contrived  to  anticipate  the  experi- 
ence of  years.  She  put  on  her  stately  airs  with  Don  De  Oli, 
and  actually  took  on  herself  the  endurance  of  his  Excel- 
lency, and  sent  us  off  together  on  a  beautiful  evening  to 
walk  in  a  lovely  garden.  If  this  man  has  any  fault,  it  is 
a  disposition  toward  taciturnity.  But  you  are  not  now 
to  learn  that  I  can  talk  enough  for  both.  I  assure  you 
the  man  became  talkative  and  eloquent.  He  held  such 
discourse  with  his  eyes,  too,  and  was  so  modest  and  grate- 
ful, and  so  ready  to  be  guided  by  me !  Oh !  If  I  could  al- 
ways be  as  happy  as  I  was  for  that  half  hour's  walk.  He  is 
delighted  with  his  place.  The  family  is  delighted  with 
him,  and  I  am  delighted  with  him;  and  I  am  delighted 
With  everybody.  We  have,  in  some  sense,  tied  up  his 


388  Robert  Gordon. 

Excellency  to  his  good  behavior.  I  believe,  after  all,  he 
partakes  of  the  homage  toward  this  extraordinary  man, 
and  is  afraid  of  him,  obscure  and  humble  as  he  is. 

How  are  you,  my  dear  Letitia,  in  that  cage  oj  yours  on 
the  resounding  sea?  Is  your  husband  as  dear  to  you  as 
ever?  I  hope  when  I  see  him,  fierce  royalist  as  he  is,  yet 
to  make  him  a  convert  to  the  cause  of  the  patriots.  I  lean 
that  way  myself.  The  refreshment  of  a  long,  frank  and 
cordial  letter  from  you  is  almost  the  only  thing  necessary 
to  complete  the  present  sum  of  my  enjoyments.  I  am  too 
happy.  I  tremble  and  look  up  in  fear  of  some  concealed 
and  suspended  thunderbolt.  Commend  me,  I  beseech  you, 
to  the  Holy  Mother,  and  believe  me  affectionately,  etc.,  etc., 

ISABEL. 

MEXICO,  March,  1824. 
DEAREST  LETTTIA: 

The  standard  of  the  patriots  is  again  unfurled,  I  am 
told,  directly  in  view  of  your  castle,  in  the  city  of 
Vera  Cruz.  With  how  little  ceremony  they  treat  emperors 
and  kings  and  great  men  in  these  evil  days  upon  which  we 
are  fallen.  I  suppose  the  royal  cavalier,  so  dear  to  you, 
sees  with  an  equal  eye  the  fighting  patriots  and  imperial- 
ists. Both  are  alike  hostile  to  him,  and  when  these  parties 
have  worried  and  weakened  each  other,  he  can  with  so 
much  the  more  ease  fall  upon  the  victor  and  destroy  him. 
To  him  all  this  fighting  may  be  matter  of  indifferent 
regard.  Not  so  with  me.  A  man  dearer  to  me  than  liberty, 
country,  home,  or  all  the  world,  except  my  dearer  parents, 
and,  the  Virgin  forgive  me !  except  my  dear  mother, 
dearer  than  even  they,  is  going  to  join  himself  to  the 
patriot  standard.  I  sometimes  flatter  myself  that  I  am 
a  patriot  by  instinct.  Since  I  have  been  acquainted  with 
this  man  I  have  learned  to  read  English;  I  have  been 


Love,  the  Power  that  Conquers  All.     389 

deeply  engaged  in  American  history.  What  a  great 
country !  What  a  noble  people  !  Compare  their  faces  and 
persons  with  those  of  the  people  here,  and  what  a  differ- 
ence !  There  is  something  independent  and  severe  in  the 
appearance  and  person  of  these  people.  There  is  not  a 
book  in  my  father's  library  that  treats  of  them,  or  their 
history,  but  what  I  have  thoroughly  conned.  But  to  my 
story ;  I  am  extremely  cautious  how  I  indulge  in  the  society 
of  this  man.  If  he  learned  the  half  of  my  impatience  to 
enjoy  his  society,  I  fear  he  would  hold  me  cheap.  For 
they  say  that  men  will  not  love  too  much  love,  or  value 
anything  that  comes  cheap.  In  fact,  I  dare  not  treat 
myself  too  much,  or  to  often  with  that  high  enjoyment. 
I  economize  every  moment,  and  feel  as  though  I  had 
acquired  a  title  to  e'njoy  it  by  forbearance  before  the  treat. 
We  had  a  long  walk  together  yesterday.  What  was' 
the  fruit  of  this  ramble,  the  very  anticipation  of  which  was 
sufficient  to  rouse  my  pulse  to  fever  quickness?  Why,  we 
walked  side  by  side  most  lovingly  indeed,  but  as  silent  as 
doves.  He  came  out  at  last  with  the  principal  secret,  and 
told  me  he  was  about  leaving  this  city  for  Vera  Cruz.  It 
was  now  my  turn  to  show  emotion;  and  it  was  at  first 
too  great  for  words.  As  soon  as  I  became  collected  from 
the  first  surprise,  I  told  him  that  those  who  wished  him 
best,  wished  him  nothing  better  than  to  stay  where  he 
was,  and  that  it  was  a  conduct  that  militated  against  his 
professions  to  me,  to  leave  a  place  where  he  could  visit 
me  at  his  choice.  He  then  informed  me  that  the  patriot 
flag  was  again  unfurled  at  Vera  Cruz ;  that  his  principles, 
and  he  added,  as  his  cheek  reddened,  his  detestation,  of 
Iturbide  and  his  minions  forbade  him  to  remain  in  an 
inglorious  pursuit  here,  although  he  could  at  any  moment 
look  at  the  mansions  of  Isabel,  when  honorable  men  were 
rushing  to  the  tented  field.  He  added,  that  his  determina- 


390 


Robert  Gordon. 


tion  had  been  approved  by  the  Conde;  that  he  expected 
appointment  and  rank  in  the  patriot  army;  that  there  was 
but  one  way  through  the  darkness  of  his  prospects  to 
the  only  hope  of  his  heart,  and  that  he  saw  no  way  for 
him,  but  to  cut  his  path  through  it  with  his  good  sword. 
I  know  not  if  I  give  them  rightly,  but  at  the  time  I  thought 
them  pretty  words,  and  I  understood  the  meaning  to  be 
that  he  had  no  hope  of  gaining  me,  but  by  gaining  power 
and  distinction  at  the  same  time.  I  saw  that  his  heart 
sank  at  the  prospect  of  leaving  me;  and  as  he  looked 
dejected,  I  believe  that  I  threw  as  much  encouragement  as 
I  could  into  my  manner.  I  am  afraid  he  thought  me  too 
fond,  for  I  think  I  pressed  his  hand  and  gave  him  to  under- 
stand that  in  me  he  had  a  true  friend.  I  cautioned  him 
against  the  assassin-dagger  of  Don  De  OH,  who  is  to 
command  the  imperial  forces  against  the  patriots.  I  con- 
jured up  so  many  horrors  in  prospect  that  my  eyes  actually 
filled  with  tears,  and  I  was  obliged  to  turn  away  to  prevent 
his  seeing  them.  I  am  sure  that  he  discovered  that  I  was 
a  traitor  to  my  king,  for  I  expressed  a  decided  wish  that 
the  patriots  might  prevail,  and  if  they  established  a  new 
government,  above  all  things,  that  he  might  acquire 
influence  enough  to  save  my  father's  estate  from  con- 
fiscation. At  seven  in  the  evening  I  was  compelled  to  leave 
him  and  see  my  persecutor.  I  told  him  so ;  and  told  him 
that  when  he  saw  with  how  much  patience  I  bore  this  tor- 
ture, I  wished  him  to  copy  it. 

I  saw  that  hateful  man.  My  parents  have  been  saying 
everything  but  just  enough  to  break  my  heart,  in  order 
to  have  me  to  at  least  say  something  decisive  before  he 
sets  out  on  this  campaign.  I  have  a  firm  conviction  that 
this  campaign  will  be  a  decisive  one;  and  may  God  grant 
that  it  may  take  from  him  forever  the  power  of  tormenting 
me  or  any  one  H&Q.  To  get  rid  of  him,  I  assured  him 


Love,  the  Power  that  Conquers  AIL     391 

that  if  he  would  leave  me  free  and  unmolested  to  the  end 
of  the  campaign,  I  would  give  him  a  final  answer.  He 
conceived  it  to  be  my  intention  to  grant  his  request.  How 
could  I  help  it?  At  any  rate,  I  am  rid  of  him  for  the 
present,  and  I  breathe  easier.  I  have  gained  time,  and 
God,  I  trust,  will  help  th.2  right  cause. 

In  continuation. 

Another  proof  of  the  villainy  of  Don  De  Oli,  notwith- 
standing all  his  protestations  of  burying  the  hatchet,  he 
went  directly  from  these  professions  to  plot  the  assassina- 
tion of  my  beloved !  As  Mr.  Gordon  and  his  servant  were 
returning  from  the  theatre,  in  passing  through  a  dark 
alley  they  were  beset  by  three  or  four  assassins.  Pistols 
were  fired,  and  dirks  drawn,  but  they  held  them  at  bay  un- 
til the  police  came  up,  and  one  of  them  was  apprehended. 
He  admitted  who  his  employer  was,  and  such  is  the  present 
influence  of  Don  De  Oli,  that  the  murderer  was  at  once 
discharged.  The  wretch  has  now  left  the  city.  Heaven 
grant  that  it  may  be  forer3r !  And  my  dear  preserver,  too, 
is  gone !  I  comfort  myself  that  heaven  has  preserved  him 
for  some  great  and  good  purpose,  or  he  would  not  have 
escaped  so  many  perils.  I  saw  him  a  moment  before  his 
departure.  I  can  never  forget  his  manner  of  taking  leave. 
There  is  a  reality  in  deep  and  genuine  love.  With  him  the 
uncertainty  and  suspense  of  his  case,  has  given  an  air  of 
sacredness  and  purity  to  his  passion  in  perfect  keeping 
with  his  character.  He  said  that  the  favored  warriors  of 
other  days  had  generally  carried  to  the  field  some  little 
token  or  souvenir  from  the  lady  of  his  love,  but  that  the 
most  he  could  hope  even  from  a  fortunate  return,  would 
be  that  my  family  would  not  absolutely  disavow  his  cause, 
and  that  he  should  not  find  me  another's,  and  that  other 
his  bitterest  enemy.  <fYou  know  my  feelings  full  well," 
I  replied.  "In  these  degenerate  days  people  are  but  too 


292  Robert  Gordon. 

apt  to  estimate  causes  by  their  successes.  Keturn  victorious, 
and  you  may  hope  all  that  you  wish."  But  when  he  grasped 
my  hand  and  said  adios,  I  shed  tears  in  abundance,  and 
said  a  number  of  foolish  things,  upon  which  the  wicked 
man  actually  pressed  my  cheek  for  the  first  time  with 
his  lips.  He  is  gone,  and  though  for  others  a  more  brilliant 
sun  never  shone,  to  me  the  blessed  light  of  heaven  is  gloom 
I  am  dispirited  and  in  tears.  Heaven  preserve  him !  The 
Blessed  Virgin  watch  over  him!  If  he  should  fall,  he 
will  never  know,  he  will  never  dream,  to  what  an  extent 
I  have  loved  him. 

I  am,  most  affectionately  yours,  ISABEL. 

MEXICO,  April,  1824. 
DEAREST  LETITIA: 

I  envy  you,  for  you  are  daily  near  him  who  occupies 
all  my  thoughts.  But  such  are  the  horrible  barriers  of 
party  and  opinion,  that  I  presume  you  cannot  meet  him. 
We  have  had  a  large  package  from  the  patriots,  that  is, 
the  Conde  has  had  one,  and  they  have  had  a  battle;  the 
imperalists  had  the  advantage.  Heaven  be  praised !  My 
beloved  is  safe,  and  Santa  Anna  writes  that  he  behaved 
gloriously.  He  was  everywhere  in  the  thickest  of  the  fight, 
hunting,  I  dare  say,  for  Don  De  Oli.  They  have  appointed 
him  colonel,  and  he  has  gained  influence  and  respect 
far  beyond  his  nominal  command.  Every  dispatch  is  full 
of  his  conduct  and  praises.  I  rejoice  in  his  glory.  Angels 
and  the  Blessed  Virgin  preserve  him,  and  bring  him  back 
in  safety  with  his  glory !  To  be  admired  and  promoted  in 
the  cause  which  the  Conde  espouses,  must  be  real  glory. 
Then  I  read  his  own  letter  written  to  the  Conde  in  Spanish. 
The  purity  of  the  language  and  style  would  have  done 
credit  to  the  Eoyal  Academy.  Of  himself  he  writes  with 
the  perfect  modesty  and  simplicity  of  a  great  man.  He 


Love,  the  Power  that  Conquers  All.     393 

says  that  Santa  Anna  is  full  of  courage,  that  the  patriots 
are  no  way  disheartened,  and  every  day  the  people  are 
flocking  to  their  standard.  Indeed,  the  Emperor  himself 
looks  in  doubt,  and  his  eternal  simper  was  this  evening 
exchanged  for  a  look  of  anxiety,  and  he  appeared  the  better 
for  it.  He  had  a  great  deal  to  say  about  his  Excellency, 
and  after  having  praised  him  to  the  skies,  he  began  to 
anoint  me  in  the  same  manner.  I  repelled  them,  in  a 
manner  that  could  not  be  mistaken.  ISABEL. 

MEXICO,  May,  1824. 
DEAREST  LETITIA: 

You  have  made  my  heart  glad  with  your  letter.  You 
say  that  you  espouse  no  cause  that  blinds  your  under- 
standing, or  takes  away  the  power  of  discriminating  truth 
from  error,  pretensions  from  reality.  That  is  like  you. 
You  have  taken  interest  enough  in  him  from  his  being 
dear  to  me,  to  inquire  him  out.  You  deljght  me  by  saying 
that  his  deportment  has  won  all  praise,  triumphed  over 
envy,  and  even  gained  the  applause  of  your  husband. 
Every  generous  heart  ought  to  feel  the  difference  between 
an  unprincipled  adventurer,  and  the  partisan,  whose 
private  life  and  deportment  show  that  his  heart  and  his 
principles  are  in  the  cause  he  espouses;  and  who  in  private 
pities,  relieves,  and  spares  those  men  for  whose  cause  he 
professes  to  have  taken  up  arms.  It  is  only  necessary  to 
look  at  him,  to  see  the  motives  which  have  carried  him  to 
the  field  are  neither  interest  nor  to  take  sides  with  the 
strongest.  There  is  something  that  speaks  when  the  heart 
is  in  earnest.  I  have  never  seen  a  man  whose  manner  so 
strongly  evinces  that  everything  he  does  is  a  matter  of  con- 
science and  principle. 

In  continuation. 

Heaven  be  praised !    They  Have  beaten  the  imperialists, 


394  Robert  Gordon. 

and  that,  too,  when  the  tide  seemed  to  have  turned  against 
them.  All  admit  that  his  intrepidity,  coolness,  and  conduct 
retrieved  the  fortunes  of  the  day,  and  turned  the  tide  back 
upon  the  foe.  He  was  covered  with  blood  and  glory,  and 
yet  came  off  from  the  conflict  unharmed.  I  have  returned 
my  Te  Deum  on  my  bended  knee.  There  are  a  thousand 
opinions  here.  Even  my  father  seemed  to  doubt  the  im- 
perial cause,  and  to  waver  for  a  moment.  He  admitted 
that  every  one  allowed  the  palm  of  admirable  conduct  to 
his  schoolmaster.  I  told  him  that  the  schoolmaster  would 
yet  play  an  important  part  here,  and  have  a  hundred  times 
as  much  real  and  efficient  influence  as  these  miserable 
puppets  that  sustain  and  enact  their  parts  in  the  ludicrous 
farce  of  imperialism  for  a  day.  But  he  is  old,  and,  heaven 
forgive  me!  he  is  obstinate,  and  insists  on  the  miserable 
old  proverb,  that  a  "bird  in  the  hand/'  etc.,  and  concludes 
with  the  prophecy  that  Don  De  Oli  will  return  in  triumph, 
and  if  there  should  be  any  overturn  as  I  predict,  it  would 
be  the  putting  down  the  present  Emperor,  and  putting  in 
his  place  his  future  son-in-law.  Fergus's  favorite  maxim 
"two  words  to  that  bargain,"  came  to  my  memory  in 
answer  to  my  father's  proverb.  How  I  long  to  see  my 
hero! 

In  continuation. 

Another  battle  and  he  is  wounded !  Oh,  why  cannot  I 
be  there  to  comfort  and  cheer  him !  You  have  sent  your 
surgeon  to  him,  to  dress  his  wound.  You  would  have  won 
my  everlasting  love  by  that  act  alone,  if  you  had  fcot 
ensured  it  before.  Letitia,  if  I  have  any  weight  with  the 
Holy  Father,  you  shall  be  canonized.  How  noble  it  is 
and  how  like  you  to  do  good  to  your  enemies.  Enemies! 
There  cannot  be  enmity  between  two  such  minds  as  yours 
and  his.  I  wish  I  were  of  the  Order  of  Mercy,  then  I 
.could  go  to  him.  I  have  not  a  doubt  but  that  I  could  help 


Love,  the  Power  that  Conquers  All.     395 

him  more  than  your  surgeon.  The  report  of  the  day  is,  that 
his  Excellency  is  retreating  upon  Puebla.  Then  he  is  so 
much  nearer  me,  and  as  soon  as  my  hero  is  recovered,  so 
will  he  be,  too.  They  are  marching  strong  detachments 
from  this  city  to  aid  the  imperialists,  and  the  patriot  ranks 
are  rilling  up  still  faster.  My  heart  exults  in  the  glory 
acquired  by  niy  beloved.  But  it  is  too  expensive  and 
purchased  at  too  much  hazard.  I  awake  at  nigh£,  and 
think  I  hear  the  guns  they  are  firing  upon  him.  In  this 
view  I  could  almost  rejoice  that  he  has  received  a  wound, 
not  dangerous,  but  sufficient  to  detain  him  a  while  from 
danger.  You  will  congratulate  me  upon  one  point  gained. 
My  mother  has  become  a  patriot,  and  in  the  presence  of 
my  father  expressed  a  decided  opinion  that  the  cause 
ought  and  would  prevail.  She  stated  at  the  same  time  that 
she  no  longer  and  never  would  be  again  opposed  to  my 
love,  and  that  if  I  can  gain  my  father's  consent  she  is 
perfectly  willing  to  break  with  the  one  and  give  me  to  the 
other.  I  embraced  her  and  almost  stifled  her  with  kisses. 
She  requested  me  not  to  caress  her  to  death,  for  she  wished 
to  live  and  see  me  happy.  This  full  confession  from  her 
has  raised  a  domestic  storm.  My  father  seems  to  cling 
more  resolutely  to  the  ship  now  that  it  seems  to  be  sink- 
ing. But  all  my  omens  are  good.  The  earth  seems  to 
have  caught  my  delight,  the  city  clocks  move  faster,  the 
birds  have  learned  a  new  song,  and  every  one  seems  to 
have  entered  into  my  joy  without  being  conscious  of  it. 
I  am  sure  he  will  yet  be  mine.  I  have  always  had  a  pre- 
sentiment of  it.  What  a  sober,  quiet,  domestic,  stay-at- 
home  wife  I  should  make.  I  could  live  with  him  on  Cru- 
soe's island  without  Friday.  I  fear  that  I  am  too  happy, 
and  dread  a  reverse. 

Affectionately  yours,  ISABEL. 


396  Robert  Gordon, 


CHAPTEE  XXVI. 

KIDNAPPED. 

MEXICO,  July,  1824. 
DEAREST  LETITIA  : 

I  have  this  day  received  a  package  of  your  letters  at 
once.  I  do  not  wonder  at  your  astonishment  that  you  have 
had  no  news  from  me  for  a  long  time.  It  is  a  miracle  that 
you  should  ever  hear  from  me  again  as  an  inhabitant  of 
this  earth.  Oh !  What  have  I  not  suffered  ?  I  have  lived 
fifty  years  in  a  month,  and  I  have  performed,  oh !  such 
a  penance  for  my  sins.  Surely  I  have  sinned  deeply.  But 
I  hope  my  trials  have  not  been  without  their  use.  I  am 
sure  I  am  more  sober ;  that  I  have  acquired  some  practical 
philosophy,  and  that  my  pulse  will  never  beat  so  tumultu- 
ously  again.  But  you  shall  have  the  sad  story  of  my  suffer- 
ings. The  evening  after  my  mother  came  out  with 
that  decided  preference  for  Mr.  Gordon  that  I  mentioned 
to  you,  too  happy  to  sit  still,  and  in  a  frame  of  mind  to 
muse  in  the  moonlight  and  inhale  the  delicious  evening 
breeze,  and  think  upon  that  man,  I  bade  the  duenna  walk 
with  me,  and  I  took  the  direction  of  the  lake,  for  we  live 
near  that  extremity  of  the  city.  It  was  very  imprudent 
I  grant  you,  in  these  times  of  distraction  and  misrule.  But 
I  felt  so  happy,  and  I  felt,  too,  as  if  I  were  strong  in  the 
strength  of  his  protecting  arms.  We  had  cleared  the  city 


Kidnapped.  397 

and  were  approaching  the  lake  before  we  noticed  that  a 
carriage  with  servants  wearing  the  imperial  uniform  fol- 
lowed us.  An  apprehensive  suspicion  flashed  across  my 
mind,  but  was  instantly  driven  out  by  a  pleasanter  train 
of  thoughts.  We  continued  to  walk  on  for  nearly  half  a 
league,  and  the  duenna  remarked  that  the  carriage  followed 
at  about  the  same  distance.  A  shiver  of  terror  of  some 
unknown  danger  pervaded  my  mind.  We  immediately 
turned  our  steps  for  the  city.  The  carriage  stopped,  and 
I  stopped,  too ;  but  not  long,  for  a  man,  muffled  in  a  cloak, 
and  followed  by  two  servants,  made  toward  me.  I  shrieked 
and  ran  as  fast  as  I  could,  but  was  overtaken  in  a  moment. 
The  stranger  grasped  me  in  his  arms,  and  the  servants 
caught  the  duenna.  I  sternly  asked  him  what  he  wanted, 
for  if  it  were  my  money  and  jewels,  they  were  at  his 
service.  He  replied  that  he  was  aware  that  I  had  not  so 
mistaken  his  object;  that  I  could  guess  by  whom  and  for 
what  purpose  he  was  employed.  Lest  I  should  still  doubt, 
he  told  me  that  he  was  ordered  to  convey  me  safely  and 
respectfully,  if  I  would  allow  him,  to  Puebla,  there  to  meet 
my  affianced  husband ;  that  he  was  instructed  to  explain 
so  much  of  his  object  in  order  to  allay  any  unfounded 
apprehensions,  and  to  set  my  mind  at  ease  as  to  my  destina- 
tion. That  for  the  rest,  he  hoped  I  would  enter  the  car- 
riage that  waited  for  me,  cheerfully,  for  in  that  case  he 
was  charged  to  use  his  best  and  most  respectful  exertions 
to  render  the  journey  pleasant.  But  that  his  commands 
were  positive,  and  his  business  urgent,  admitting  neither 
hesitation  nor  delay;  and  that  his  instructions  were  to 
bring  me  to  "his  Excellency  at  Puebla,  respectfully,  if  I 
would,  or  forcibly,  if  he  must;  and  he  begged  me  to  fix 
upon  the  alternative. 

I  put  down  the  coward  at  my  heart,  and  talked  firmly 
and  indignantly,  and  told  him  that  none  but  a  robber  would 


398  Robert  Gordon. 

be  employed  in  sucli  a  purpose,  or  would  commit  such  an 
outrage  upon  a  man,  much  less  upon  a  defenceless  woman ; 
that  he  might  by  brute  force  carry  me  to  Puebla,  and  that 
I  spurned  equally  his  control  and  his  master's ;  I  cautioned 
him  that  the  times  were  dubious,  and  that  his  employer 
might  not  always  be  in  power,  and  that  he  might  some  time 
be  called  to  account  for  this  evening's  outrage.  I  threatened 
him  with  the  utmost  vengeance  of  a  powerful  father,  who 
would  deeply  avenge  this  detestable  outrage.  He  replied 
with  ironical  coolness,  that  he  had  no  idea  of  engaging  in 
a  war  of  words  in  which  I  was  sure  to  have  the  better  of 
the  argument;  and  that  he  was  happy  to  set  my  mind  at 
rest,  regarding  my  father's  interference,  and  that,  if  I 
wished,  he  would  show  me  a  letter  from  him  to  his  Excel- 
lency, in  which  the  latter  is  authorized  to  take  such 
measures  with  me  as  he  deemed  expedient,  "so  that  the 
result  be  that  you  are  joined  together  in  holy  wedlock." 

He  said  that  he  was  in  great  haste,  and  begged  to  know 
whether  he  should  have  the  honor  to  escort,  or  carry  me 
to  the  carriage.  I  told  him  that  I  was  aware  into  whose 
hands  I  had  fallen,  that  if  he  would  allow  my  woman  to 
accompany  me,  I  would  trust  to  Providence  for  the  future. 
"Remember,"  I  cried,  "that  I  take  this  woman  with  me, 
and  that  you  pledge  yourself  not  to  so  much  as  pollute 
me  again  with  the  touch  of  your  hand."  "Much  obliged 
to  you,  madam,"  said  he,  "you  speak  like  Cicero.  Every 
article  of  the  treaty  shall  be  observed,  and  I  assure  you 
that  if  it  is  broken  it  will  be  done  by  you."  He  opened 
the  carriage  door,  and  I  sprang  into  it  as  though  I  were 
embarking  on  a  pleasure  trip.  He  lifted  the  duenna  in 
after  me,  mounted  himself,  closed  the  door,  gave  a  signal, 
and  we  were  whirled  away. 

Words  would  but  weakly  portray  my  thoughts  and  feel- 
ings. We  had  hardly  passed  the  causeway  from  the  city, 


Kidnapped.  399 

before  we  were  joined  by  a  number  of  armed  men  on  horse- 
back, and  among  others,  I  recognized  my  father's  con- 
fidential servant,  which  fact  instantly  enlightened  me  as 
to  the  truthfulness  of  what  had  just  been  told  me,  that 
my  father  was  not  only  consenting  to  this  outrage,  but 
aiding  it.  We  drove  on  in  silence.  I  heard  the  distant 
tones  of  the  bells  dying  away  in  the  distance.  Finally  all 
faded  away  but  the  rattling  of  the  wheels  and  the  trampling 
of  the  horses.  All  hope  of  rescue  or  return  was  at  an  end. 
At  one  in  the  morning  we  came  to  the  mountains.  The 
person  who  was  with  us  in  the  coach  descended,  and  made 
a  motion  for  me  to  follow  him.  I  noticed  that  the  whole 
escort  amounted  to  twenty  persons.  The  master  of  the 
gang  told  me  that  he  was  obliged  so  far  to  infringe  the 
treaty,  as  to  inform  me  that  we  were  to  tarry  here  until 
the  rising  of  the  sun,  and  that  I  should  be  obliged  to  pro- 
ceed the  rest  of  the  way  on  a  mule,  and  that  he  hoped  I 
would  devote  the  interval  to  rest,  for  that  the  remainder  of 
the  journey  would  be  fatiguing.  I  went  into  the  hotel, 
was  shown  by  the  servant  to  a  bed,  and  my  duenna 
had  one  prepared  by  me.  I  reflected  that  I  should  need 
all  my  strength  and  composure  for  the  scenes  that  were 
before  me,  and  that,  to  make  the  best  of  my  present  situa- 
tion, would  be  most  likely  to  give  me  energy  and  endurance 
for  whatever  I  might  have  to  encounter.  Accordingly,  I 
went  to  bed,  and  dreamed  that  Mr.  Gordon  rode  up,  the 
handsomest  officer  I  had  ever  seen,  at  the  head  of  a  fine 
regiment,  and  that  at  the  sight  of  him  all  my  persecutors 
shifted  for  themselves;  and  I  was  dreaming  further,  when 
I  was  awakened  by  the  summons  of  my  conductor.  I 
arose,  was  dressed,  mounted  my  mule,  and  requested  them 
to  lead  on.  I  hoped  that  by  apparent  submission  to  my 
•fate  I  might  throw  these  people  off  theirguard  ,  and  make 
my  escape. 


400  Robert  Gordon. 

In  this  way  we  advanced  slowly,  avoiding,  as  I  dis- 
covered, the  great  road,  and  for  the  most  part  following 
mule  paths  among  the  mountains,  until  we  arrived  in 
view  of  the  beautiful  city  of  Puebla.  It  was  a  lovely  view, 
even  in  the  deplorable  situation  in  which  I  was  placed. 
Cradled  among  the  mountains,  its  air  is  balm,  its  scenery 
inspiring,  and  the  blue  of  its  atmosphere  more  soft  than 
that  of  any  place  that  I  had  ever  seen.  At  the  sight  of 
the  town  my  heart  began  to  palpitate,  and  I  was  alternately 
faint  and  then  my  face  glowed.  I  faintly  breathed  the 
dear  name  instead  of  that  of  the  Virgin  Mother,  as  though 
there  were  relief  and  protection  in  the  name ;  the  spirit  of 
my  father  began  to  stir  within  me,  and  indignation  began 
to  inspire  me  with  the  requisite  self-possession.  I  was 
left  under  the  guard  of  the  rest,  and  my  conductor  went 
forward,  as  I  suppose,  to  report  his  progress  and  success. 
It  was  nearly  an  hour  before  he  returned,  and  I  had  a 
fine  opportunity  to  meditate  how  I  should  conduct  myself 
in  the  approaching  emergency.  I  revolved  every  conceiv- 
able plan  of  address  and  action,  and  ended  by  feeling  the 
impossibility  of  anticipating  a  conduct  proper  for  every 
supposable  case,  and  determined  simply  to  act  according 
to  circumstances. 

My  conductor  returned,  and  the  escort  marched  through 
various  streets  in  the  city.  It  halted  at  last  in  front  of 
a  splendid  building,  which  they  called  the  palace.  I  was 
ordered  to  alight,  and  my  conductor  led  the  way  up  a  flight 
of  marble  stairs  to  a  piazza,  from  which  a  door  opened 
into  a  spacious  hall.  A  lady  gaily  dressed,  and  with  rather 
a  handsome  person,  but  of  a  bold  and  disagreeable  manner, 
requested  me  to  be  seated.  She  informed  me  that  his 
Excellency  would  have  the  honor  to  wait  upon  me  as  soon 
as  he  had  finished  some  important  business  that  could  not 
be  deferred.  I  replied,  that  it  was  a  thing  altogether 


Kidnapped.  401 

undesired  on  my  part  to  see  his  Excellency,  as  she  had 
called  him,  at  all;  and  the  longer  his  important  business 
detained  him,  the  better  I  should  be  pleased.  "Indeed, 
madam/'  said  she,  "that  is  astpnishing!  I  should  have 
supposed  that  ladies  were  more  alike  in  their  tastes.  The 
bravery  and  gallantry  of  our  noble  general  has  won  every 
heart  here.  I  am  told,  madam,  that  he  has  done  you 
the  infinite  honor  to  elect  you  for  his  bride,  and  that  with 
the  consent  of  your  noble  father  he  has  brought  you  here 
to  celebrate  the  nuptials.  You  can  scarcely  imagine  how 
much  you  will  be  envied  this  distinguished  honor.  You 
have  only  to  fear  that  some  jealous  rival  will  mix  poison 
with  your  beverage  before  it  reaches  you."  I  replied, 
"Madam,  I  nave  not  the  honor  of  knowing  you,  nor  the 
taste  to  like  you,  and  when  you  have  said  all  that  you 
have  on  your  mind,  I  hope  you,  will  have  the  goodness 
to  relieve  me  of  the  pleasure  of  your  company."  She 
made  a  low,  sweeping  courtesy,  and  said  that  she  felt  very' 
much  oppressed  at  heart,  that  she  had  not  the  good  fortune 
to  please  me  in  the  same  degree  as  she  long  had  my 
future  husband;  that,  as  to  leaving  the  elected  bride  of 
his  Excellency  alone,  just  on  her  introduction  to  the  palace, 
and  on  the  eve  of  being  united  to  him,  was  a  thing  not 
to  be  thought  of,  and  that  the  general  would  never  forgive 
her  such  rudeness.  I  smiled  in  her  face,  threw  as  much 
contempt  as  I  could  in  my  manner,  and  reclined  on  the 
sofa  with  the  assumed  ease  and  insolence  of  a  high-bred 
lady,  and  made  up  my  countenance  for  meeting  his 
Excellency. 

It  was  nearly  noon  when  he  came,  and  if  I  had  not 
had  such  just  cause  for  indignation  and  terror,  I  should 
have  pitied  the  wretch,  when  he  approached  me.  He  had 
tasked  himself  to  the  utmost  to  assume  the  nonchalance 
and  toothpick  insolence  of  a  hero,  who  visits  a  subdued 


402  Robert  Gordon. 

and  imprisoned  enemy.  The  moment  he  saw  the  look  of 
defiance,  his  insolence  forsook  him.  His  cheek  paled,  and 
he  began  to  stammer  something  about  love  and  promises, 
and  the  consent  of  my  father,  and  my  recreant  and  degrad- 
ing taste  for  the  vile  traitor,  the  Yankee  adventurer.  I 
heard  him  calmly  to  the  end,  and  then  I  opened  upon 
him.  Our  language  is  rich  in  terms  of  belittlement,  hatred, 
and  contempt;  and  I  was  fluent  in  the  use  of  them.  I 
told  him  if  he  had  possessed  at  the  first,  a  single  rudiment 
of  anything  that  was  noble  in  man,  his  birth,  fortune,  and 
equality  of  condition,  together  with  the  wishes  of  my 
parents,  he  would  undoubtedly  have  gained  my  consent 
to  a  union  with  him,  before  I  had  ever  seen  any  one  better. 
But,  at  the  moment  he  persevered  in  his  suit,  propped  by 
his  interest  with  my  parents,  after  he  was  assured  that 
he  could  never  have  mine,  he  became  to  me,  not  only  a 
subject  of  dislike,  but  of  loathing;  for  that  a  man  who 
would  in  any  way  impose  himself  on  a  woman  as  a  hus- 
band, after  he  knew  she  disliked  and  wished  to  avoid  him, 
must  be  a  tyrant  and  a  coward.  I  added  that  I  did 
Sndeed  love  the  American  adventurer,  as  he  had  called 
him,  with  my  whole  heart,  and  I  had  thought,  since  I 
had  known  him,  that  my  aversion  to  his  Excellency  hafd 
indeed  increased  by  contrasting  characters  so  very  opposite. 
I  hinted  at  his  having  fished  him  out  of  the  water.  Not 
to  be  outdone  in  this  strain,  he  reminded  me,  that  much 
as  that  adventurer  wanted  birth  and  condition,  he  had 
invited  him  to  decide  their  mutual  pretensions  in  a  single 
combat,  which  he  had  declined.  I  replied  by  reminding 
him  that  the  opportunity,  so  sought,  did  afterward  occur; 
"and  I  remember,"  I  continued,  "that  there  were  two 
accounts  of  the  affair,  the  one  by  him  and  the  other  by 
yourself,  and  they  materially  differed;  I  presume  you 
understood  which  one  I  believed."  He  reddened  with  r£ge, 


Kidnapped.  403 

turned  on  his  heel,  traversed  the  room  two  or  three  times 
with  rapid  strides,  and  then  placing  himself  full  before 
me,  and  summoning  all  his  coolness,  he  said,  "Madam,  I 
see  it  is  useless  to  contend  with  you  in  words.  I  shall 
not  condescend  to  any  further  discussion.  You  are  mine, 
because  I  have  power,  and  love  you.  You  are  mine,  because 
I  entertain  a  deadly  hatred  toward  the  man  you  love.  In 
the  double  game  which  you  have  played  between  him  and 
me,  you  are  mine  by  implied  engagement.  You  are  mine 
by  your  father's  consent,  and  even  assistance,  as  you  dis- 
cover. All  these  indignant  airs  only  give  my  pretty  caged 
bird  a  more  engaging  appearance.  Make  yourself 
comfortable  and  at  home  here.  You  are  mistress  of  the 
palace  and  its  master.  To-morrow,  or  perhaps  the  next 
day,  you  will  accompany  me  to  a  place  in  the  mountains. 
Father  Jerome  and  your  father's  servant  will  be  in  waiting, 
and  your  duenna  on  your  part,  to  witness  to  earth  and 
heaven  that  you  are  my  lawful  wedded  wife.  You  will 
hardly  attempt  to  show  any  more  of  these  airs,  when  you 
discover  that  they  only  render  you  more  piquant,  and  to 
my  taste."  He  could  not,  however,  resist  the  cool  smile 
of  contempt  I  gave  him,  and  grinding  his  teeth,  and  half 
drawing  his  sword,  he  uttered  a  curse,  that  I  should  then 
be  his,  alive  or  dead. 

His  countenance  while  he  was  uttering  these  words  was 
horrible,  and  I  felt  a  sinking  faintness  at  heart,  which  I 
disguised  by  turning  away  from  him  apparently  in  con- 
tempt. I  only  added,  "You  may,  perhaps,  carry  me  there, 
and  my  poor  father  may  have  abetted  this  horrid  purpose. 
I  will  promise  nothing  beforehand.  The  same  Providence 
which  has  so  mercifully  interposed  for  me  before,  will  not 
forsake  me  now,  in  this  hour  of  extreme  need.  When  it 
comes  to  the  worst  I  can  only  die,  and  the  thought  that 
I  was  your  wife  would  blast  me  as  surely  as  a  thunder- 


404  Robert  Gordon. 

bolt.  You  have  taught  me  what  I  thought  was  impos- 
sible, to  abhor  you  more  than  ever.  I  hope  that  until  that 
dreaded  hour  of  removal,  I  am  at  least  to  be  left  alone  to 
think  on  him  who  has  so  often  delivered  us  both,  and  who 
little  thought,  when  he  last  spared  you  in  battle,  that  he 
was  sparing  a  viper  to  sting  him,  and  all  that  was  dear 
to  him,  to  death."  He  replied  that  if  it  would  comfort 
me  to  have  one  more  solitary  night  for  such  pleasing 
remembrances,  he  had  promised  my  father  that,  up  to 
the  time  when  he  should  have  the  claims  of  a  husband,  I 
should  be  left  to  myself.  Saying  this,  he  withdrew. 

The  remainder  of  the  day  and  the  ensuing  night 
passed  as  before,  except  that  the  lady  of  whom  I  spoke, 
showed  herself  only  at  supper.  Early  the  next  morning 
I  made  my  way  into  the  street,  and  attempted  to  get  out 
of  the  town  and  escape.  At  first,  I  was  exposed  to  the 
insults  of  the  soldiers,  of  which  the  town  was  full.  But 
I  was  soon  discovered.  The  commander  was  sent  for. 
He  met  me  in  the  street,  half  a  mile  from  his  resi- 
dence. I  was  wearied,  frightened,  and  subdued,  and  I 
wept  like  a  child.  I  fell  on  my  knees  before  him  in 
the  street,  in  the  presence  of  his  brutal  soldiers,  and  im- 
plored him  by  his  mother,  his  sister,  and  the  Blessed 
Virgin,  to  let  me  travel  on  foot  and  alone  to  Vera  Cruz. 
"You  need  not  go  there,"  said  he,  "to  see  the  adventurer. 
He  is  expected  here  every  hour  at  the  head  of  the  rebel 
troops  to  besiege  me,  and  my  sweet  bride  in  the  palace. 
What  a  charming  solace  we  shall  have  for  passing  the 
dull  days  of  the  siege !"  It  was  in  vain  that  I  wept  and 
implored  the  officers,  soldiers,  and  citizens.  The  soldiers 
were  ordered  to  take  me  by  force  and  carry  me  home ; 
and  I  was  conveyed  there  as  if  I  had  been  a  corpse. 

The  dreadful  hour  was  approaching;  and  I  was  but 
too  well  apprised  of  the  lengths  to  which  he  was  prepared 


Kidnapped.  405 

to  go.  I  had  reserved  a  knife  which  I  used  for  preparing 
pens  and  paring  my  nails,  for  an  emergency.  I  had 
always  considered  him  a  coward,  and  I  had  determined 
when  we  should  be  alone  to  operate  upon  his  fears,  "by 
a  show  of  assault.  I  searched  for  it,  and  it  was  gone. 
He  was  now  with  me  alone,  assuring  me  that  he  would 
not  leave  me  again  until  the  coach  came  to  convey  us 
to  the  place  of  marriage.  I  again  fell  on  my  knees  before 
him.  I  folded  my  hands  in  the  attitude  of  the  most 
earnest  supplication.  I  said,  "Forgive  me,  Don  De  Oli. 
I  will  use  no  more  harsh  words  to  you.  I  will  strive  to 
love  you,  and  become  whatever  you  wish.  I  cannot  pass 
at  once  from  hatred  to  love.  Allow  me  but  four  days,  and 

at  the  end  of  that  time "  and  I  hesitated.    "And  what 

at  the  end  of  four  days?"  asked  he.  "At  the  end  of 
four  days,"  I  answered,  "I  will  either  become  your  wife, 
or  die.  Grant  me  this,  I  beseech  you,  by  the  many  days 
which  we  have  spent  together  when  I  did  not  hate  you, 
when  I  believed  that  one  day  I  might  love  you/'  "That, 
madam,"  said  he,  "will  never  do.  You  have  fooled  me 
long  enough,  and  I  see  your  only  object  is  to  gain  time, 
until  the  Yankee  can  come  to  your  relief.  'The  present 
time/  the  proverb  says,  'is  the  only  time/  I  must  avail 
myself  of  it."  While  this  was  passing,  the  carriage  which 
was  to  convey  us  away,  drove  to  the  door.  The  hateful 
woman  appeared  to  accompany  me.  I  remember  nothing 
further,  except  a  certain  swimming  of  the  head,  and 
that  the  room  and  every  object  was  inverted,  and  whirled 
around.  I  did  not  awake  to  consciousness  until  after 
midnight.  The  faithful  duenna  was  weeping  by  my  side. 
A  physician  and  a  priest  were  in  the  apartment.  Don 
De  Oli  came  to  my  bedside  and  they  came  with  him.  I 
felt  tranquil,  but  so  extremely  weak  as  hardly  to  be  able 
to  articulate.  I  heard  the  physician  inform  him,  that 


406  Robert  Gordon. 

in  my  present  situation,  the  least  motion  or  alarm  would 
be  fatal  to  me.  I  felt  my  strength  and  my  powers  return- 
ing with  my  consciousness,  and  was  sensible  that  my  faint- 
ness  had  been  that  of  extreme  terror.  But  I  carefully 
imitated,  as  well  as  I  could,  the  symptoms  which  had 
been  so  recently  real.  I  had  the  inexpressible  satisfac- 
tion to  find  that  the  physician  was  deceived  by  this  coun- 
terfeiting, and  advised  him  to  leave  me  to  repose,  of  which 
I  feebly  expressed  my  need.  Two  servants  were  left  with 
candles  in  the  remote  part  of  the  room,  and  the  faithful 
duenna  sat  by  my  side.  You  may  be  sure  I  had  no 
thoughts  of  repose.  Not  many  minutes  after  the  wretch 
left  me,  I  saw  through  the  blinds  the  flash,  and  instantly 
afterward  heard  the  report  of  a  cannon,  and  a  continued 
and  terrific  shouting  of  voices.  Shortly  after  a  person 
came  into  the  room  and  uttered  something  in  a  whisper. 
The  attendant  women  cried  out  "Jesu,  Maria !"  and  began 
to  wring  their  hands.  "We  are  besieged,"  they  cried. 
"The  North  American  general  besieges  us.  Oh !  The 
horrid  creature!  He  spares  neither  aged  nor  infant,  lay 
woman,  nor  professed;"  and  they  crossed  and  com- 
forted themselves  with  a  prayer  that  the  general  might 
beat  them  off.  How  tumultuously  my  bosom  throbbed !  The 
cannon  pealed  again  and  again,  and  every  discharge 
seemed  in  my  e£r  the  noble  voice  of  my  deliverer  announc- 
ing to  me  that  relief  was  at  hand. 

My  tormentor  came  and  went,  and  deep  anxiety  sat 
upon  his  face.  I  made  it  a  point  to  lie  perfectly  still 
in  bed,  and  my  entire  abstinence  from  all  refreshments 
for  some  time  had  given  me  the  paleness  of  death.  The 
second  day  of  my  confinement  in  this  way,  I  heard  a 
louder  and  more  continuous  cannonade,  the  crash  of  small 
arms,  and  the  infuriated  shouts  of  the  assailants,  and 
gometimes  the  shrieks  of  the  besieged.  The  attendants 


Kidnapped.  407 

came  into  the  room  on  tip-toe ;  their  countenances  evinced 
that  their  terrors  were  real,  and  not  the  offspring  of  idle 
speculation.  I  made  the  best  interpretation  I  could  of  the 
broken  exclamations  and  whispers,  and  I  inferred  that  Don 
De  Oli  had  made  a  sortie  from  the  town ;  that  it  had  been 
routed  and  driven  back,  and  that  there  was  hourly  danger 
that  the  town  would  be  taken. 

I  feigned  sleep,  and  the  anxiety  and  terror  of  my 
attendants  were  so  great  that  they  left  me  alone  with 
the  duenna.  My  pocketbook  had  not  been  taken  from 
me.  In  it  was  paper  and  a  pencil.  I  traced  on  a  slip 
of  paper  these  words:  "I  am  here  under  the  control  of 
Don  De  Oli.  Save  me  from  a  fate  worse  than  death — — " 

I  gave  this  scrawl  to  the  duenna  with  every  precaution 
to  enable  her  to  have  it  conveyed  to  Mr.  Gordon.  I  fur- 
nished her  with  money,  and  told  her  that  my  life  depended 
upon  that  billet  finding  its  way  to  him.  She  promised 
her  best,  and  retired;  after  a  sufficient  time  she  came 
back  with  a  satisfied  countenance,  informing  me  thai;  she 
had  hired  an  Indian  for  five  doubloons,  who  had  promised 
on  the  sign  of  the  cross  to  have  it  conveyed  to  the  patriot 
general. 

The  next  day  Don  De  Oli  returned,  and  I  discovered  in 
extreme  anger.  The  duenna  had  learned  that  the  garrison 
had  been  severely  beaten,  and  that  it  was  the  general  im- 
pression that  the  town  could  Bold  out  but  a  few  days. 
I  might  have  attributed  his  anger  to  this,  but  he  soon 
undeceived  me.  "So/'  said  he,  "all  this  sinking  faintness 
is  a  mere  stratagem  of  war.  I  am  astonished,  that  su<fli 
a  beautiful  and  innocent  face  can  conceal  so  much  intrigue 
and  deception.  See,  traitress,  that  there  are  others  as 
wise  as  yourself.  That  infernal  rebel  may  learn  that  you 
are  here,  and  be  urged  to  save  you  from  an  event  so  much 


408  Robert  Gordon. 

more  terrible  than  death.  But  the  information,  you  see, 
has  to  pass  through  my  hands,  and  I  must  immediately 
possess  the  rights  of  a  husband,  to  enable  me  to  rightly 
dispose  of  your  billet.  There  is  some  probability  that 
the  rebel  may  render  it  expedient  for  us  to  evacuate  the 
town,  and  retreat  to  a  place  more  central  to  our  resources. 
But  we  must  be  wedded  before  we  leave  this  place.  You 
will  prepare  yourself  in  a  couple  of  hours  for  a  visit  from 
the  father  confessbr,  who  will  solemnize  the  marriage. 
It  is  a  fortunate  contingency  that  he  arrived  yesterday 
with  dispatches  from  the  Emperor,  and  has  consented  to 
perform  this  service  for  us.  I  recommend  to  you  the 
same  wisdom  which  you  showed  in  your  journey  here. 
You  will  have  to  submit,  and  I  wish  it  were  cheerfully, 
to  the  unavoidable  necessity  of  your  condition.  Trick, 
faint,  deception  will  neither  create  surprise,  inspire  pity, 
nor  obtain  delay."  Saying  this,  he  put  the  billet,  which 
I  had  sent  Mr.  Gordon,  before  me,  and  retired. 

I  threw  my  arms  around  the  neck  of  my  only  friend, 
and  was  relieved  by  a  burst  of  tears.  She  assisted  me 
to  throw  on  my  dress.  I  arose,  summoned  all  my  aid  to 
keep  cool,  and  seize  the  proper  moment  and  course  of 
action.  One  thing  was  determined,  that  Don  De  Oli 
should  never  be  able  to  call  me  his  wife.  I  seemed  nerved 
to  any  point  of  daring.  Nevertheless,  when  I  heard  the 
ascending  footsteps  of  the  expected  party,  my  heart  began 
to  palpitate,  my  respiration  became  laborious,  and  the 
apartment,  as  before,  began  to  whirl  around.  I  was  again 
unconscious  for  some  time.  The  terror  of  the  parties 
when  I  began  to  recover,  evinced  that  they  were  aware 
that  lEhere  had  been  no  deception  in  this  fainting.  There 
were  in  the  apartment  the  woman  whom  I  first  saw  on 
entering  the  house,  some  other  women  dressed  in  tawdry 
finery,  that  might  be  servants,  my  father's  head  servant, 


Kidnapped.  409 

the  father  Jerome,  and  Don  De  Oli.  The  duenna  hung 
over  me  sobbing  and  holding  volatile  salts  for  me  to 
smell,  and  rubbing  my  temples  with  the  same.  Don 
De  Oli  approached  me  and  essayed  to  take  my  hand.  The 
touch  instantly  thrilled  through  my  frame,  and  restored 
to  me  all  my  native  energy.  I  arose,  put  by  his  hand,  and 
passed  him,  toward  the  father.  "Father,"  said  I,  "I  have 
not  thought  well  of  you  for  a  long  time.  You  have  now 
a  chance  to  redeem  my  good  opinion,  and  forever  ensure 
my  gratitude.  You  have  seen  how  suddenly  things  change 
here.  To  serve  me  now,  may  be  one  day  of  service  to 
you.  What  is  this  horrible  farce  that  you  are  about  to 
enact?  You,  a  minister  of  the  altar,  and  abet  this  hor- 
rible business!  Marriage  is  a  sacrament.  There  is  no 
union  unless  both  parties  consent.  Could  you  'conjure 
a  fiend  here  from  his  infernal  abode,  I  would  wed  him 
as  soon  as  that  man.  I  might  at  least  respect  the  intel- 
lectual powers  of  the  horrible  being.  Think  you,  that 
Heaven  will  permit  such  horrible  sacrilege  as  you  appear 
to  meditate,  to  pass  unpunished?  Why  kill  the  child 
of  your  benefactor,  that  never  did  you  harm  ?  You  cannot 
doubt,  after  what  you  have  seen,  that  such  a  union  would 
kill  me  at  once.  I  beg  you  by  the  love  of  your  mother, 
your  sister,  the  Blessed  Virgin,  Jesus  who  hung  on  the 
tree,  by  the  God  of  whose  mysteries  you  are  the  minister,  let 
alone  this  impious  mockery.  Refuse  to  have  part  or  lot 
in  it.  Interpose  your  high  authority  as  the  minister  of 
God  to  reprove  and  disappoint  this  wretch." 

I  pronounced  these  words  in  the  tone  of  the  most  im- 
passioned supplication,  and  held  fast  to  his  pontifical  robe. 
He  turned  deadly  pale,  and  evidently  faltered  in  his 
purpose.  The  greater  spirit  was  evidently  subservient  to 
the  less,  for  Don  De  Oli,  in  a  tone  of  authority,  informed 
him  that  all  was  ready ;  and  bade  him  proceed  in  the  cere- 


4io  Robert  Gordon. 

mony.  He  reminded  him  of  his  given  word,  the  consent 
of  my  father,  and  intimated  surprise,  that  so  wise  a  man 
could  hesitate  in  so  just  a  resolution  from  the  tragic  rant 
of  a  girl  whose  head  had  been  turned,  and  whose  heart 
had  been  polluted  by  heresy.  This  was  touching  the  key- 
note, and  instantly  restored  to  him  his  inflexibility  of 
purpose.  He  began  in  that  deep  and  awful  tone  of  voice, 
in  which  I  had  so  often  heard  him  in  my  father's  house. 
His  eye  was  cast  up  to  heaven,  and  his  word  seemed  to 
come  from  the  bottom  of  his  heart.  "Yea,"  said  he,  "it 
is  a  sacrament,  that  has  been  too  long  deferred.  I  plead 
guilty  before  God  and  the  saints,  that  when  in  former 
times  I  have  been  urged  by  your  father  to  this  same  course, 
I  have  yielded  to  the  emotions  of  a  weak  and  sinful  com- 
passion. It  is  easy  to  see  how  deeply  and  fatally  that 
arch  heretic  has  exerted  his  influence  upon  you.  In 
solemnizing  this  marriage,  I  unite  you  with  your  equal 
in  birth  and  fortune,  a  husband  destined  for  you  from 
your  earliest  years,  and  with  whom  you  played  as  such 
in  the  innocent  days  of  your  childhood.  In  doing  it,  I 
secure  your  temporal  happiness  against  your  own  perverted 
heart  and  judgment.  And  more  than  all,  it  is  to  purify  your 
soul  from  the  taint  of  heresy,  and  to  secure  your  eternal 
salvation,  that  I  commence  these  holy  mysteries."  Saying 
this,  he  began  the  usual  services  of  the  church,  command- 
ing me  the  while  in  the  name  of  God,  to  take  Don  De  Oli 
by  the  hand.  I  indignantly  pushed  aside  the  offered  hand, 
and  continued  in  a  tone  of  remonstrance,  and  in  a  voice 
so  frantic  and  loud,  that  it  prevailed  over  the  deep  voice 
of  the  father's  services.  I  could  hardly  make  out  that 
he  had  proceeded  to  that  point  of  the  ceremony,  where 
our  mutual  responses  would  have  been  necessary  to  proper 
validity,  when  I  sprang,  by  a  strong  effort,  from  the  two 
women,  who,  under  the  semblance  of  bridesmaids,  actually 


MY  TORMENTOR  FLKD. 


Kidnapped.  41 1 

held  me  in  my  position,  and  in  struggling  to  open  the 
door  and  escape  I  fainted  and  fell  to  the  floor.  My 
agony  of  head  and  heart  was  too  intense,  to  allow  me 
long  the  repose  of  fainting,  and  I  quickly  recovered  con- 
sciousness. A  burst  of  cannon  and  small  arms  was  heard, 
followed  by  shouts  and  shrieks,  and  all  the  wild  outcry 
of  a  captured  city.  Father  Jerome  fled  in  one  direction, 
my  infamous  persecutor  in  another,  and  iJhe  next 
moment  I  was  in  the  arms  of  Mr.  Gordon.  My  appear- 
ance was  a  sufficient  comment  on  the  duenna's  narrative. 
He  hung  over  me  with  the  tenderness  of  a  mother.  His 
clothes  and  sword  were  stained  with  blood.  The  story 
of  my  sufferings  melted  the  young  warrior  to  tears,  which 
I  could  have  kissed  away  as  they  formed  in  his  eye. 
"Dearest  Isabel,"  said  he,  "let  me  wash  away  these  stains. 
You  see  I  am  polluted  with  blood."  But  I  clung  to  him 
as  if  the  horrors  from  which  I  had  just  escaped  were  still 
impending.  Officers  were  every  moment  calling  upon  him 
for  orders,  and  everything  abroad  was  in  the  confusion 
of  a  city  recently  captured.  I  saw  that  he  wished  to  be 
abroad  and  with  me  at  the  same  time.  "Oh !  leave  me 
not,"  said  I,  "for  you  cannot  imagine  the  misery  from 
which  you  have  saved  me.  The  victim  you  have  so  often 
rescued  from  destruction  is  now  yours,  and  yours  for- 
ever." 

While  I  was  thus  clinging  to  him,  and  weeping  on  his 
bosom  for  joy,  and  the  duenna  devouring  his  disengaged 
hand  with  kisses,  the  shrieks  and  exclamations  in  our 
vicinity  gave  a  terrible  evidence  of  the  lawless  outrages 
of  an  infuriated  soldiery  in  a  captured  city.  He  made  a 
great  effort  of  self-conquest,  placed  a  guard  of  his  country- 
men about  me,  and  tore  himself  from  my  grasp,  saying, 
that  delightful  as  it  was,  to  spend  these  moments  of 
deliverance  and  joy  with  me,  the  highest  of  all  duties 


4i2  Robert  Gordon. 

'X 

called  him  away  from  selfish  enjoyment,  and  that  ne  must 
prevent  the  indiscriminate  massacre  of  the  citizens.  "Dear 
Isabel,"  said  he,  "compose  and  assure  yourself.  You  have 
nothing  to  fear.  I  will  restore  order  and  stay  the  fury 
of  the  soldiers,  and  then  return  on  the  wings  of  love  and 
impatience."  "Yes,"  answered  I,  "you  cannot  escape  me 
so  easily.  I  have  suffered  the  terror  of  distraction  too 
long  to  forego  the  assurance  of  your  protection  for  a 
moment.  Where  you  go,  I  will  go."  Another  general 
burst  of  shrieks  came  upon  our  ears.  I  looked  into  his 
face,  and  my  own  sense  of  duty  returned.  I  relinquished 
his  arm.  "Go,"  said  I,  "restrain  those  wretches.  Be 
to  others  what  you  have  been  to  me.  God  forbid  that  I 
should  turn  the  current  of  your  humanity  and  protection 
from  other  unfortunates." 

The  moment  he  left  me  a  shiver  of  terror  ran  through 
my  frame,  as  though  the  recent  horrors,  from  which  he 
had  delivered  me,  were  about  to  press  on  me  again.  My 
guard  was  commanded  by  a  young  American  officer  of 
noble  appearance,  who  did  everything  to  restore  my 
courage,  assuring  me  that  my  persecutor  was  gone  with 
all  his  train,  and  that  I  was  in  no  danger.  Notwithstand- 
ing these  assurances,  the  hour  of  his  absence  seemed  to  me 
an  age.  In  an  hour  he  returned  in  a  superb  uniform. 
All  stains  of  blood  had  disappeared,  he  had  the  firm 
and  tranquil  port  of  command,  the  eye  and  manner 
of  one  who  had  so  lately  guided  the  storm,  had  restored 
tranquillity  and  confidence  to  the  trembling  citizens,  and 
tied  up  the  unbridled  fury  of  his  soldiers.  "Order  and 
quiet,"  said  he,  "are  now  re-established,  and  the  two 
coming  hours,  my  dear  Isabel,  are  wholly  to  you.  The 
Imperialists  have  left  us  in  quiet  possession  of  the  city, 
and  we  shall  remain  here  for  the  present.  How  little 
did  I  expect  this  excessive  joy!"  AJ1  who  were  present, 


Kidnapped.  413 

except  the  duenna  and   Fergus,  whose   fresh   Irish   face 
sparkled  with  joy,  were  told  that  we  preferred  to  be  alone. 

When  all  had  retired  but  those  before  whom  I  felt  no 
restraint,  Mr.  Gordon  informed  me  that  Fergus,  who 
acted  as  aide,  and  who  was  always  by  his  side,  brought 
him  intelligence  only  this  morning,  how  I  was  situated. 
"We  had  determined  on  the  assault  to-morrow,"  said  he. 
"This  information  anticipated  the  fate  of  the  place  one 
day.  I  gave  instant  orders  for  the  assault.  It  was  a  fierce 
and  bloody  struggle.  But  the  Imperialists  fought  without 
a  commander,  and,  of  course,  much  of  their  effort  was 
wasted,  because  directed  to  no  given  object.  I  arriveS 
here,  it  appears,  at  the  fortunate  moment.  For,  though 
such  a  constrained  and  abominable  union  ought  never  to 
have  bound  your  duty  or  conscience  for  a  moment,  I  am 
perfectly  sensible  that  I  have  delivered  you  from  painful 
scruples,  and  I  am  most  happy  in  thinking  that  Don 
De  Oli  has  not  the  miserable  satisfaction  of  saying  that 
the  forms  of  this  outrage  were  consummated."  He  gave 
me  various  other  details  of  his  short  campaign,  and 
taking  my  hand  and  looking  timidly  in  my  face,  he  asked, 
"Dearest  Isabel,  what  now?  I  am  made  a  kind  of  fair 
weather  and  guerilla  general.  The  shortlived  imperial 
pageant  is  crumbling  to  ruins.  Don  De  Oli  will  fall 
with  his  master.  I  cannot  but  flatter  myself,  that  whatever 
order  of  things  shall  arise  upon  these  ruins,  I  shall  have 
enough  influence  and  consideration  to  secure  your  father's 
estate  from  confiscation.  What  shall  I  say  further,  Isabel  ? 
You  know  my  heart  too  well  to  need  any  more  declara- 
tions. I  am  perfectly  sensible  of  the  inequality  between 
us  in  many  points.  But  I  feel  as  if  I  had  claims.  I  am 
a  general,  dear  Isabel,  at  your  service,  and  just  at  this 
moment  I  am  in  great  authority.  Are  you  disposed  for 
ever  to  renounce  Don  De  Oli,  and  titles  and  hereditary 


414  Robert  Gordon. 

honors,  and  become  the  wife  of  a  simple  citizen  of  the 
United  States?"  "Yes,"  said  I,  "provided  only,  that  the 
solemnity  be  consecrated  with  the  rites  of  my  mother's 
church,  and  in  the  presence  of  my  dear  mother,  who  has 
given  her  full  and  unqualified  consent,  you  can  take  the 
Dona  Isabel  de  Olmedo  for  your  true  and  wedded  wife 
whenever  you  choose.  To  be  your  wife,  and  a  citizen  of 
the  United  States,  fills  all  my  present  desires." 

You  may  suppose  he  said  kind  things.  He  is  one  of 
those  men,  who  show  to  most  advantage  when  contem- 
plated nearest  at  hand.  It  is  true  he  looked  none  the 
worse  for  his  epaulets,  and  for  having  fought  like  a  hero. 
I  hope  you  will  do  me  the  justice  to  believe,  that  though 
a  woman,  I  am  not  precisely  the  person  to  admire  a  mere 
pageant,  or  allow  my  eyes  to  be  caught  by  a  fine  person, 
a  sword,  and  lace.  How  simple  and  how  dignified  is  this 
man  in  private!  The  man  who  had  just  driven  the 
legions  of  the  enemy  before  him,  and  who  came  to  me 
fresh  from  the  slaughter  of  an  assaulted  city,  took  the 
hands  of  a  simple  girl  who  threw  herself  into  his  arms. 
I  shall  never  love  or  respect  him  less  for  intimate  acquaint- 
ance. I  despise  the  maxim  that  no  one  is  great  when 
you  see  him  in  private. 

Fergus  talks  Irish,  and  capers  for  pure  joy,  for  I  have 
told  him  that  neither  of  us  are  ever  to  leave  his 
master;  and  I  have  promised  that  he  shall  have  a  shanty 
built  to  his  own  notion,  either  at  Durango,  or  in  the  States. 
For  we  have  already  agreed,  after  the  event,  to  live  half 
of  the  year  in  his  country,  and  the  other  half  in  mine. 
We  are  thus  to  migrate  with  the  birds.  In  the  spring  we 
will  fly  to  the  North,  and  in  the  autumn  return  to  the 
South.  Affectionately  yours,  ISABEL. 


United  at  Last  415 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

UNITED  AT  LAST. 

MEXICO,  August,  1824. 
DEAREST  LETITIA  : 

I  am  too  happy  to  write  to  any  one  but  you.  I  left 
myself  at  the  close  of  my  last,  along  with  my  general,  at 
Puebla.  Instead  of  two  hours  which  he  had  promised  me, 
he  stayed  until  late  at  night.  Before  he  left  me,  he  arranged 
the  terms  by  which  I  might  stay  at  the  Carmelite  Convent 
in  that  city,  as  long  as  he  occupied  it  with  his  troops. 
Protestant  and  heretic  as  they  held  him,  he  has  present 
power,  and  I  fear  that  is  the  divinity  most  devoutly 
worshiped  here.  He  promised  the  sisterhood  protection. 
He  stationed  a  guard  about  the  walls,  and  was  to  be 
admitted  at  any  time  that  he  wished.  They  were  to 
afford  me  shelter  and  a  home  until  he  should  carry  me 
back  to  Mexico.  The  convent  is  in  a  sweet  place,  and  to 
it  I  was  escorted  by  the  youthful  general  and  a  select  body 
of  troops. 

In  the  morning  he  informed  me  that  volunteers  were 
crowding  to  his  standard,  and  that  three  thousand  had  al- 
ready joined  him  here.  He  told  me  that  he  was  impatient 
to  see  my  mother,  and  that  he  intended  to  leave  a  garrison, 
commanded  by  an  officer  upon  whom  he  could  depend, 
and  pursue  Don  De  OH  to  Mexico,  whither  he  was  retreat- 


4i6  Robert  Gordori. 

ing.  I  replied  that  I  was  happy  here,  and  begged  him  to 
allow  me  a  little  repose,  assuring  him  that  if  he  had  the 
regard  which  he  pretended  for  me,  he  would  not  leave 
a  place  where  I  was  so  delightfully  situated,  and  where 
he  could  see  me  without  molestation  or  suspicion.  I 
reminded  him  now  different  all  this  might  be  elsewhere. 
"Not  at  all,"  he  replied.  "They  shall  never  take  you 
from  me  again.  Besides,  this  is  a  cause  in  which  every 
consideration  must  yield  to  the  requirements  of  its 
interests.  And  I  have  a  confident  hope,  when  I  have 
seen  your  mother,  that  we  shall  find  a  place  there  that 
will  content  you  as  well  as  this."  I  could  not  but  admire 
the  patriotism  and  self-control  that  led  him  to  pursue 
his  duty  against  his  inclinations.  I  have  not  a  doubt 
that  he  prefers  me  to  all  the  pomp  and  circumstances  of 
war  and  glory.  I  told  him  to  do  as  his  sense  of  duty 
dictated,  that  I  was  too  good  a  patriot  to  wish  to  have 
him  sacrifice  the  interest  of  the  country  for  love,  and1 
that  I  had  enjoyed  one  day  and  night  beyond  the  reach 
of  fortune. 

He  had  to  make  a  march  with  a  select  body  of  troops 
to  a  village,  which  required  his  absence  "until  the  next 
morning.  I  shed  childish  tears  at  this  information,  and 
held  his  arm,  until  he  gently  disengaged  himself.  To 
excuse  me,  remember  what  I  had  recently  suffered.  I 
followed  him  as  he  rode  slowly  away,  until  his  figure,  the 
waving  plumes  of  his  cap,  and  the  troops,  were  lost  in 
the  distance.  What  a  dreadful  thought,  that  we  must 
be  separated  from  those  we  love,  not  by  such  absences, 
terrible  as  they  are,  which  leave  us  the  confident  hope 
of  return ;  but  to  be  separated  by  the  grave,  and  have  the 
veil  of  eternity  interposed  between  us  and  them!  Oh! 
to  be  separated  from  him  forever !  the  thought  is  chilling. 
I  am  in  thought  weaving  the  ties  of  a  relation  with  the 


United  at  Last.  417 

earth,  too  tender.  Why  was  the  heart  formed  capable 
of  such  intense  attachments,  and  yet  to  moulder  in  the 
dust  ?  And  then,  what  say  the  rigor  of  my  mother  church 
about  the  soul  of  him  I  so  dearly  love?  They  term  him 
a  heretic.  Kobert  Gordon,  my  beloved,  whose  every 
thought  is  noble,  whose  impulses  are  all  mercy  and  kind- 
ness, and  whose  heart  is  consecrated  to  purity  and  virtue, 
a  heretic!  And  the  sly,  cruel,  selfish,  intriguing  father 
Jerome,  one  of  the  faithful,  and  a  minister  of  our  mys- 
teries !  Letitia,  I  remember  that  you  were  formerly  more 
liberal  than  myself,  and  that  you  used  to  say  that  a  good 
heretic  was  better  than  a  bad  Catholic.  If  he  is  a 
heretic,  I  am  in  a  fair  way  to  become  one,  too.  Holy 
Virgin  defend  him!  Keep  him  from  the  assassin's 
dagger,  and  the  sword  of  the  enemy,  and  may  no  image 
of  earth,  but  that  of  Isabel,  mingle  with  his  pure  dreams. 
I  am  most  truly  yours,  ISABEL. 

MEXICO,  August,  1824. 
DEAREST  LETITIA  : 

He  returned  the  next  day  in  safety  to  Puebla.  Don 
De  Oli  was  too  far  in  advance  of  him  to  be  overtaken. 
He  immediately  selected  a  garrison  and  appointed  a  com- 
mander for  the  city.  He  had  news  from  Santa  Anna, 
who  had  captured  Queretaro.  Having  settled  his  arrange- 
ments for  leaving  the  city,  he  spent  the  remainder  of  the 
day  with  me.  The  next  morning  he  started  with  his 
whole  force,  except  the  garrison,  for  Mexico.  It  was  a 
cheering  sight,  and  I  think  intended  as  a  kind  of  fete 
for  me.  The  troops  appeared  to  be  in  their  gayest  attire 
and  in  high  spirits.  They  filed  oft8  in  front  of  the  convent 
gate.  The  piazza  of  the  convent  was  filled  with  all  the 
gaiety  and  beauty  of  the  city.  My  general  rode  a  spirited 
white  charger,  and  many  an  encomium  did  the  ladies  pass 


4 1 8  Robert  Gordon. 

upon  him,  little  knowing  how  my  heart  concurred  in  all 
their  praises.  They  all  admitted  that  he  was  the  finest 
looking  man  they  had  ever  seen.  This  with  ladies  is 
no  small  praise.  As  he  came  up  in  front  and  doffed  his 
military  cap  and  waved  his  plumes,  there  was  a  cor- 
responding waving  of  handkerchiefs,  and  fair  hands, 
and  a  general  shout  of  Viva  la  Ttepublica,  and  Viva  el 
Captain  Liberador.  He  dismounted  and  came  up  to  the 
gate,  kissed  the  hand  of  the  prioress  and  other  religious 
sisters,  and  asked  their  prayers  for  the  success  of  his  cause. 
The  prioress  presented  him  with  a  consecrated  handker- 
chief, which  he  received  with  a  respectful  address,  and 
what  surprised  them  most,  was  not  his  uncommon  beauty 
of  form  and  person,  nor  his  gallant  and  dignified  bearing 
as  an  officer,  but  that  he  bowed  like  a  king,  spoke  the  true 
Castilian,  and  kissed  the  hand  of  the  prioress,  like  a  devout 
Catholic.  I  confessed  that  a  little  pride  mixed  with  the 
love  of  my  heart,  when  he  came  to  me  in  the  presence  of 
such  a  concourse,  and  begged  the  honor  of  escorting  me 
to  Mexico,  and  my  mother. 

To  this  request  I  bowed  like  an  awkward  country  girl, 
and  could  not  find  a  word  of  reply.  My  heart  said,  "Yea 
and  Amen!  To  Mexico,  and  as  much  farther  as  you 
choose."  Ten  of  the  first  officers  and  select  troops  formed 
parallel  lines.  He  led  me  through  them,  his  cap  in  hand ; 
theirs  were  instantly  doffed  as  he  passed,  and  they  drew 
their  swords  in  sign  of  offering  me  protection.  The  mo- 
ment we  were  beyond  the  gate,  a  beautiful  horse,  appar- 
ently matched  to  that  of  the  general,  was  brought  me,  and 
another  for  the  duenna.  He  gracefully  assisted  me  into 
the  saddle.  The  moment  I  was  seated  the  cannon  fired. 
The  bells  struck,  and  the  colors  were  displayed  on  the 
towers  in  the  city.  Peal  after  peal  responded  from  the 
town.  The  drums  rolled.  The  piercing  notes  of  the  fife 


United  at  Last.  419 

were  heard.  The  shouts  were  re-echoed  from  the  hills. 
Then  there  was  a  momentary  interval  of  silence  again. 
It  was  broken  by  renewed  peals  of  cannon,  and  the  army, 
the  citizens,  and  the  spectators  from  the  towers  and  roofs 
of  the  city,  rent  the  air  with  Viva  el  Capitan  Liberador. 
This  was  repeated  a  number  of  times.  Instantly  all  was 
still.  The  hats  were  replaced.  The  general  uttered  the 
word  "March !"  and  a  full  band  struck  up  a  national  air. 
Our  horses  moved  off  at  a  slow  and  measured  pace.  We 
were  all  mounted,  and  the  trampling  of  so  many  thousand 
horses  produced  a  sound  which  I  cannot  describe.  How 
delightful  was  this  journey!  How  different  from  the 
sullen  and  desponding  train  of  thoughts  in  which  I  came 
here !  Letitla,  you  came  over  the  sea  with  the  beloved 
of  your  heart,  and  had  that  long  and  intimate  sojourn 
with  your  husband.  But  it  seems  to  me  that  I  cannot  be 
happier  than  I  am.  I  would  be  content,  at  any  rate,  to 
compromise  with  destiny,  and  always  remain  as  I  am.  I 
can  pretend  to  convey  no  idea  of  his  assiduity,  tenderness, 
and  gallantry.  Not  a  word,  not  a  look,  apparently  not  a 
thought  escapes  him,  but  what  unites  the  expression  of 
devoted  affection  with  that  of  vestal  purity.  Every  hour 
and  every  day  of  this  charming  journey  was  a  succession 
of  new  enjoyments.  At  last  we  arrived  in  view  of  this 
valley,  which  unites  everything  that  is  grand,  rich,  or 
beautiful  in  nature  and  art.  It  awoke  me  from  my  long 
trance  of  enjoyment.  I  remembered  that  this  great  city, 
so  difficult  to  approach,  and  so  hard  to  attack  with  any 
prospect  of  success,  was  in  possession  of  the  Emperor  and 
his  troops,  commanded  by  a  wretch  whose  hatred  toward 
the  chosen  of  my  heart  would  now  be  tenfold  more  ran- 
corous and  vindictive  than  ever.  And  what  will  my  father 
say  to  the  present  order  of  things?  Of  my  mother  I 
have  no  doubt.  Mr.  Gordon  approached  me.  "Yonder/' 


420  Robert  Gordon. 

said  he,  "are  the  towers  of  Mexico.  My  heart  swells  at 
the  sight,  for  I  have  a  presentiment  that  I  shall  soon 
call  you  mine,  and  that  the  patriot  flag  will  soon  wave 
from  their  pinnacles." 

When  we  arrived  at  the  city,  Mr.  Gordon  joined  his 
troops  to  those  of  Santa  Anna  and  Eschaverri.  There 
was  in  the  united  army  a  party,  and  not  a  weak  one, 
disposed  to  assign  the  chief  command  to  the  American 
general.  But  he  concluded  that  it  would  be  better  to 
the  cause,  and  to  the  interest  of  my  father,  for  him  to 
take  a  subordinate  command.  There  was  some  question 
between  Eschaverri  and  Santa  Anna.  It  was  peaceably 
settled  that  the  latter  should  have  the  supreme  command, 
and  the  other  two  co-ordinate  authority.  When  I  saw 
them  running  to  my  beloved  in  every  difficulty,  I  saw 
that  he  who  originated  all  the  measures,  was  the  chief 
commander,  whatever  name  he  bore.  In  the  hour  of 
perplexity  and  danger,  Mr.  Gordon,  without  the  envy  or 
responsibility  of  the  chief  command,  really  originated 
every  measure,  and  his  counsels  prevailed  upon  every  point 
in  question. 

It  was  a  proud  and  glorious  sight,  and  every  measure 
was  taken  with  the  most  perfect  union  of  feeling.  The 
artillery  pealed.  The  drums  rolled.  The  banners  waved. 
,The  troops  displayed,  and  the  cries  of  Viva  la  Tlepublique 
arose  to  the  sky.  Even  the  horses  caught  the  pride  and 
enthusiasm  of  the  moment. 

In  continuation. 

Jesu  Maria!  I  have  been  an  hour  on  my  knees  in 
thanksgiving,  and  yet  I  have  not  returned  adequate  thanks. 
All  doubt  is  over.  They  have  passed  the  dreaded  act  of 
confiscation.  What  do  I  care?  I  should  be  as  happy  as 
mortal  can  be,  if  I  had  to  earn  my  daily  bread  by  toil. 
I  will  not  attempt  to  describe  the  scene  that  I  have  just 


United  at  Last  421 

witnessed.  What  a  scene!  My  father  and  mother  have 
arrived  in  camp.  My  father  was  no  longer  the  proud, 
nobleman,  the  heir  of  thirty  generations.  It  was  a 
proscribed  father,  stripped  of  all  his  honors,  and 
all  his  wealth,  his  house  converted  into  quarters  for 
soldiers,  and  himself  anoT  my  mother  obliged  to  fly  for 
their  lives  without  a  servant.  It  was  so  much  the  more 
bitter,  that  all  this  cruelty  was  inflicted  by  one  for  whom 
my  father  would  have  sacrificed  me  and  everything.  The 
order  of  nature  was  reversed,  and  instead  of  allowing  me 
to  fall  on  my  knees,  to  ask  his  pardon  for  my  disobedience, 
he  would  have  humbled  himself  "before  me,  and  begged 
forgiveness  of  me  with  the  subdued  humiliation  of  one 
whose  pride  and  heart  had  both  been  broken.  "God," 
said  he,  "has  punished  me  just  in  the  point  where  I  had 
offended.  He  has  made  the  Moloch,  to  whom  I  would 
have  offered  up  my  dear  and  only  daughter,  the  instrument 
of  my  correction.  Old,  infirm,  a  beggar,  I  would  beg 
pardon  of  Mr.  Gordon  on  my  knees."  I  threw  myself 
into  his  aged  arms,  and  wept  on  his  bosom.  "My  dear 
venerated  father,"  I  cried,  "I  well  know  that  mistaken 
love  for  me  dictated  all  that  you  have  done.  It  is  all 
forgiven  and  forgotten.  I  can  now  show  you  the  extent 
of  my  love  and  duty.  I  will  make  you  feel  and  acknowl- 
edge that  wealth  is  not  necessary  to  happiness.  What 
do  I  say?  He  will  overthrow  their  acts  of  iniquity,  and 
restore  you  to  your  wealth  and  honors."  "That  cannot 
be,  dear  daughter,"  he  mournfully  replied.  "I  have  com- 
mitted myself  with  all  parties ;  and  whichever  of  them  that 
ultimately  prevails,  the  insolence  of  success,  and  the 
rancor  of  the  triumphant  party  will  effectually  bar  me 
from  my  possessions.  I  shall  never  dare  to  look  Mr. 
Gordon  in  the  face."  My  mother  embraced  me  in  her 


422  Rpbert  Gordon. 

turn,  and  in  our  tears  there  was  no  bitterness;  for  we 
always  had  but  one  mind  upon  this  subject. 

My  father  said  that  Don  De  Oli  and  the  father  con- 
fessor, after  returning  in  disgrace  and  chagrin,  related 
their  reverses  to  the  Emperor,  but  never  went  near  him. 
He  immediately  procured  a  decree  of  confiscation,  which 
was  no  sooner  passed,  than  put  in  execution.  He  had 
scarcely  time  given  him  to  allow  him  to  fly,  and  was  pro- 
scribed as  a  traitor.  My  mother  fled  with  him,  and  they 
had  remained  concealed  among  the  adherents  of  our  house. 
As  soon  as  they  heard  of  our  arrival  they  came  to  us.  I 
received  my  father  and  mother  in  my  own  tent,  where  they 
embraced  the  duenna,  the  only  servant  that  now  remained 
to  them.  I  left  them  with  her  and  went  to  Mr.  Gordon, 
who  was  engaged  in  reading  overtures  from  the  Emperor. 
On  our  way  back  I  prepared  him  for  the  scene  that  was 
to  follow.  He  soon  put  my  father  at  his  ease  by  a  deport- 
ment just  such  as  I  could  have  wished  from  him.  His 
manner  showed  that  he  estimated  my  mother  differently 
from  my  father,  but  that  he  now  saw  nothing  in  him  but 
the  humble  father  of  Isabel.  He  begged  him  to  believe 
that  the  future  should  entirely  obliterate  the  past.  He 
pressed  the  offered  cheek  of  my  mother  with  his  lips,  and 
embraced  her.  "You  have  always  been  as  a  son  to  me/' 
said  she,  "and  if  you  now  wish  it,  you  shall  be  really  so." 
My  father  added,  "that  matters  were  so  changed  that 
Mr.  Gordon  would  hardly  desire  a  union  with  a  poor, 
unfortunate  girl,  who  had  nothing  to  bring  but  herself 
and  her  helpless  parents."  "That,"  said  he,  "is  all  I 
ever  sought.  Present  the  next  woman  on  earth  with  one 
of  the  Indies  in  each  hand  for  a  dower,  and  your  daughter 
penniless,  and  I  would  not  hesitate  a  moment.  But  sup- 
pose she  will  be  so?  Not  for  my  sake,  or  hers,  but  for 
yours,  and  the  comfort  of  your  age,  we  will  have  all 


United  at  Last  423 

these  puppet  acts  of  confiscation  reversed.  I  will  yield 
in  everything  else,  but  not  this ;  my  heart  tells  me  that  I 
ought  to  stand;  and  were  there  but  my  single  sword,  I 
would  not  sheathe  it  until  that  was  obtained." 

My  father  embraced  him  with  tears  and  exclaimed,  "Why 
have  cruel  circumstances  ever  alienated  me  from  this  noble 
young  man,  whose  title  is  worth  a  thousand  times  all  those 
written  on  parchment?  Success  is  in  your  eye  and  fol- 
lows your  steps.  Forgive  the  ingratitude  of  a  doting 
old  man,  and  take,  if  you  desire  it,  all  that  I  now  have  to 
give,  my  daughter.  I  see  that  you  love  each  other.  I 
know  that  he  is  the  soul  of  honor  and  will  be  kind  to  you 
when  I  am  gone.  I  give  up  ambition,  and  only  hope  to 
spend  my  old  days  peacefully  with  you  and  to  expire  in 
your  arms.  The  angel  of  the  covenant  bless  you!"  My 
mother  likewise  gave  us  full  consent  and  implored  bless- 
ings on  our  heads. 

How  often  have  I  said  and  thought  that  my  happiness 
could  receive  no  addition  since  I  had  been  rescued  from  the 
hands  of  Don  De  Oli.  But  when  I  saw  my  parents  looking 
with  affection  and  undoubting  confidence  to  Mr.  Gordon, 
my  betrothed,  I  felt  that  I  could  be  happier  than  I  had 
yet  been.  In  the  course  of  the  conversation  the  ques- 
tion came  up  when  I  should  become  the  wife  of  the 
Yankee  general,  and  my  parents  said  the  sooner  the 
more  agreeable  to  them;  and  they  looked  to  me  to  set  the 
time,  and  I  said  that  the  general  had  won  me  so  often  that 
I  thought  he  should  have  the  right  of  war  and  conquest. 
Then  we  all  looked  to  him  to  name  the  day.  And  what  do 
you  think  the  cruel  man  said?  Why,  that  he  was  prob- 
ably the  most  impatient  of  all,  but  that  he  had  made  a 
vow  that  he  would  not  ask  so  great  an  honor  until  lie 
could  render  himself  in  some  way  worthy  of  it,  by  pro- 
curing a  reversal  of  the  decree  of  confiscation,  and  a  res- 


424  Robert  Gordon. 

toration  of  my  father  to  his  home  and  his  honors.  My 
father  and  mother  exchanged  looks,  as  much  as  to  say, 
"Such  is  our  son-in-law."  There  was  another  comfort, 
too,  in  the  new  order  of  things.  My  father  and  mother 
agreed  that  the  name  of  Don  De  Oli  was  as  hateful  to  them 
as  it  was  to  me.  Moreover,  we  could  see  each  other  as  often 
as  we  pleased.  In  fact,  he  lives  almost  in  my  tent. 

I  confess  I  am  impatient  with  the  tedious  progress  of 
these  negotiations.  The  cities  and  provinces  are  all  leaving 
the  standard  of  the  Emperor,  and  my  father's  countenance 
brightens  daily,  for  he,  too,  has  become  a  patriot.  The 
Emperor  has  made  the  patriot  general  proposals,  and  the 
papers  are  all  brought  to  my  future  husband.  How  ever- 
lastingly tedious  are  these  miserable  politicians;  they  will 
spin  out  the  simplest  trifle  to  a  volume.  It  is  a  hard  thing 
to  keep  these  stupid  generals  from  quarreling  among  them- 
selves. My  general  is  constantly  throwing  water  on  their 
fire.  Santa  Anna  confessed  to  my  father  to-day  that  if  it 
were  not  for  Mr.  Gordon  they  would  all  fall  together  and 
the  cause  would  be  lost. 

Yours  as  ever,  ISABEL. 

MEXICO,  August,  1824. 
DEAREST  LETTTIA  : 

Blessed  be  the  Holy  Virgin!  Mexico  is  ours.  I  am 
under  my  father's  roof.  The  confiscation  is  reversed. 
Mr.  Gordon  this  morning  brought  my  father  a  decree  of 
the  National  Junta,  which  reverses  all  the  late  decrees 
of  Iturbide,  and  restores  my  father  to  all  his  fortunes,  to 
his  recent  command  at  Durango,  and  to  the  presidency  of 
that  honorable  body.  He,  Victoria  and  the  Conde  De 
Alva  may  now  be  considered  as  at  the  head  of  affairs.  The 
day  of  days  is  fixed.  My  father  throws  me  gold  by  the 


United  at  Last  425 

handful,  and  my  poor  head  swims  with  joy.  Clara  wishes 
me  joy  with  the  best  possible  grace. 

I  ought  to  go*  back  and  inform  you  how  these  great 
events  came  about.  Day  before  yesterday  Iturbide  sent 
out  to  the  patriot  general  a  full  abdication  of  his  assumed 
power  and  immediately  retired  to  his  country  home.  Don 
De  Oli  and  the  father  confessor  wished  to  fly  with  him. 
But  they  were  arrested  by  some  of  my  father's  friends, 
both  were  lodged  in  jail,  and  their  fate  will  probably  de- 
pend on  my  father's  will.  Immediately  upon  the  abdica- 
cation,  a  junta  formed  a  provisional  government,  and 
called  a  National  Congress.  They  are  ready  to  wink  at 
one  great  deficiency  in  Mr.  Gordon,  his  not  being  a  Catho- 
lic. They  offered  him  a  command  only  subordinate  to  the 
commander-in-chief.  But  equally  in  compliance  with  his 
own  feelings  and  my  wishes,  and  those  of  my  father,  he 
declined  it.  He  said  that  he  had  not  taken  up  arms  for 
himself,  but  for  the  cause  of  man,  and  that  having  seen  the 
nation  restored  to  the  full  possession  of  its  liberties,  and 
not  having  the  honor  of  being  a  native  of  the  country,  he 
wished  to  tender  his  resignation. 

I  was  in  the  gallery  with  a  crowd  of  the  citizens  when  he 
made  his  speech  to  congress.  It  was  delivered  with  that 
noble  simplicity  which  characterizes  everything  he  does. 
My  father  presided  at  the  meeting.  -A  majority  of  the 
members  were  his  followers  and  his  speech  was  received 
with  the  loudest  applause,  every  one  extolling  the  rare 
example  of  a  victorious  general  resigning  his  command 
to  the  peaceful  representatives  of  the  people.  A  pension 
for  life  and  an  extensive  and  beautiful  estate  in  the  val- 
ley of  Mexico  were  voted  him  and  he  retired  amidst  the 
acclamations  and  waving  of  handkerchiefs  from  the  gal- 
leries. The  day  of  days  is  the  day  after  to-morrow.  We 
are  all  sick  of  revolutions,  war  and  the  shedding  of  blood. 


426  Robert  Gordon. 

As  soon  as  the  spring  opens  we  journey  tfl^etS^r  to  the 
United  States,  to  visit  the  place  of  his  tirth,  I  have 
studied  no  people  or  manners  but  Spanish,  and  I  long  to 
see  and  study  that  great,  peaceful  and  flourishing  country. 
Don  De  Oli  and  the  father  confessor  were  th?s  day 
brought  from  prison  and  placed  before  the  junta.  They 
had  the  meanness  to  most  earnestly  supplicate  the  inter- 
ference of  Mr.  Gordon,  and  attempted  to  cajole  him  with 
eulogies  upon  his  magnanimity.  My  father  said  that  the 
junta,  in  disposing  of  them,  would  be  guided  by  his 
wishes.  He  instantly  expressed  a  wish  that  th^y  might 
be  liberated  on  the  expressed  condition  that  he  should 
never  see  them  again.  They  were  set  at  large.  Unhappy 
men!  Ketributive  justice  overtook  them.  This  capital 
is  in  a  state  of  the  most  terrible  anarchy.  In  too  many 
instances  have  the  miserable  people  taken  justice  into 
their  own  hands.  It  is  true  that  sometimes  they  let.  their 
wrath  fall  on  the  right  ones.  These  bad  men  had  become 
obnoxious  to  the  people,  and  as  they  were  liberated  at  the 
gate  of  the  palace  where  the  junta  was  in  session  some  one 
gave  the  signal  for  marking  them  out  for  the  fury  of  the 
mob.  They  were  literally  torn  to  pieces.  I  tremble  y*-\ 
and  pity  them,  much  as  they  deserved  their  fate. 

Sincerely  yours,  ISABEL, 

MEXICO,  Sept.,  1824. 
DEAREST  LETITIA: 

This  evening  is  to  see  me  no  longer  Dona  de  Olmedo. 
My  hand  trembles,  and  if  my  writing  is  a  little  flurried,  I 
hope  you  will  pardon  me.  Let  me  tell  you  something  of 
these  important  arrangements.  We  are  to  be  publicly 
married  in  the  church  Senora  de  Guadeloupe,  by  the 
Bishop  of  Mexico.  Clara  is  to  be  bridesmaid.  There  is  to 
be  a  general  illumination.  Immediately  after  we  return 


United  at  Last  427 

to  my  father's  hotise,  Fergus  is  to  be  married  to  a  pretty 
Irish  girl,  and  my  duenna  to  Matteo  Tonato,  the  whole  to 
conclude  with  a  splendid  fandango. 

I  had  almost  forgotten  the  most  important  article,  my 
dress.  The  good  man  has  been  a  little  prying  in  this,  and 
I  have  answered  him,  "You  shall  see,  sir,  all  in  good  time, 
and  I  shall  not  look  ugly  either."  To  tell  you  the  truth, 
he  is  not  fond  of  jewels,  or  I  would  blaze  like  the  meridian 
sun.  I  have  had  many  counsels  on  this  subject.  My 
mother  advises  gorgeous,  flowered  and  stiff  silks.  Clara 
would  have  me  flash  with  diamonds.  I  will  surprise  him 
more  than  that.  It  is  a  plain,  rich  cambric  dress  from 
the  United  States,  made  by  an  accomplished  mantua- 
maker  after  the  latest  fashion  of  that  country.  The  com- 
pliment will  be  so  much  the  more  delicate,  as  he  supposes 
that  I  am  to  appear  in  a  rich  Spanish  costume  studded 
with  jewels.  He  wears  his  uniform  as  a  patriot  general. 

In  continuation. 

It  is  all  over.  I  will  give  you  the  details  in  their  order. 
Just  as  the  sun  was  setting,  my  mother  and  Clara,  and  two 
other  distinguished  young  ladies  of  the  city,  were  assisted 
by  the  bridegroom  into  the  state  coach.  Thirty  coaches 
of  invited  guests  followed.  The  whole  was  escorted  by  a 
select  body  of  troops,  lately  under  the  command  of  my 
husband.  At  the  head  of  the  procession  was  my  father 
accompanied  by  the  Conde  de  Alva  and  the  first  officers  of 
the  junta.  Military  music,  firing  of  cannon  and  the  ring- 
ing of  bells  marked  the  commencement  of  the  procession. 
At  the  door  of  the  magnificent  church  we  were  received  by 
the  bishop  and  the  priesthood  of  the  city,  all  in  their  most 
solemn  official  robes.  The  church  was  full  to  overflowing, 
and  adorned  with  evergreens,  and  covered  quite  to  the  cen- 
tre of  its  vaulted  dome  with  that  profusion  of  splendid 
flowers  in  which  our  city  ahounds. 


428  Robert  Gordon. 

After  the  ceremony  we  all  returned  to  my  father's  resi- 
dence. You  know  all  about  our  customs  on  such  occasions. 
My  father  is  scrupulously  observant  of  all  the  Spanish 
rules  of  the  olden  times.  I  have  only  to  say  that  every 
punctilio  was  observed  on  this  occasion.  The  pleasantest 
circumstance  is  yet  to  be  recorded.  The  Gazette,  in  de- 
tailing the  festivities  of  the  night,  remarked  that  not  a  sin- 
gle accident  had  occurred. 

To  my  great  relief  we  were  entirely  alone  in  the  morn- 
ing. I  dreaded  to  see  company,  and  would  have  chosen 
to  spend  the  day  alone  with  my  husband.  But  immedi- 
ately after  breakfast  the  Conde's  coach  drove  up  and  a  card 
was  handed  me  from  Clara,  requesting  the  pleasure  of  a 
drive  with  me  and  my  husband.  The  drive  was  a  pleasant 
one.  We  visited  all  the  important  churches  of  the  city. 
The  architecture,  furniture  and  paintings  impressed  my 
husband  very  much.  I  have  seen  the  same  expression  on 
his  countenance  when  he  was  viewing  the  mountains  of 
San  Puebla,  and  other  sublime  points  of  our  scenery. 

After  we  had  finished  the  inspection  of  the  churches,  we 
took  seats  in  a  garden,  from  which  was  a  most  sublime  view 
of  the  whole  chain  of  mountains  in  the  distance.  In  one 
of  the  churches  which  we  had  visited,  we  had  waited 
through  a  most  imposing  celebration  of  high  mass,  in 
which  the  rites  of  our  church  had  appeared  in  all  their 
grandeur.  "We  have  seen  all  that  our  city  has  to  boast 
of,"  said  Clara,  "and  now  I  wish  to  ask  your  opinion,  and, 
if  I  did  not  respect  that  opinion,  I  would  not  ask  it.  You 
have  been  reared  religiously,  as  a  Protestant,  or,  as  we  say, 
a  heretic.  You  have  seen  all  that  is  noble  and  imposing 
in  our  worship.  Which  worship  do  you  prefer,  this  or 
your  own?"  He  answered:  "I  can  hardly  reply  to  you, 
without  making  a  speech,  and  I  am  too  happy  to  punish 
you,  or  myself,  by  such  an  affliction.  The  whole  taken 


United  at  Last.  429 

together,  if  I  must  be  frank,  I  much  prefer  my  own. 
Could  I  have  done  it  without  a  compromise  of  principles, 
my  interest  and  inclination  would  have  led  me  to  accept 
your  faith.  I  have  felt  the  full  force  of  a  motive,  a 
thousand  times  more  powerful  in  swaying  the  springs  of 
action,  when  I  have  seen  Isabel  raising  her  eyes  and  fold- 
ing her  hands  with  such  an  expression  of  ardor  and  purity 
in  her  prayers  and  observances.  I  have  painfully  re- 
gretted that  we  were  not  exactly  one  in  faith,  as  I  trust 
we  are  in  affection.  It  is  my  opinion  that  religion  is  the 
most  solemn  of  all  realities,  not  at  all  dependent  upon 
forms  or  shades  of  opinion.  I  believe  all  good  people  to  be 
of  one  religion.  I  admire  most  of  the  forms  of  your  worship, 
as  I  said  to  the  unfortunate  father  Jerome.  I  am  well 
convinced  that  the  ignorant  multitude  of  such  a  country 
as  this  can  have  no  faith  but  an  implicit  one.  Were  it  not 
for  a  few  points  to  which  your  priests  hold  with  such  per- 
severance, I  could  be  a  conscientious  Catholic.  Some  of 
the  dogmas  of  your  church  are  not  only  incredible  and  im- 
possible, but  revolting  to  common  sense.  I  am  disgusted 
with  the  multitude  of  bowings,  crossings,  shifting  of  dress, 
the  gaudiness  and  finery  of  the  sacerdotal  costume;  in 
short,  a  great  part  of  the  parade  and  pageantry  of  your 
church.  How  simple  are  all  the  grand  operations  of  the 
deity!  Can  the  Being  who  reared  yonder  mountains, 
and  kindled  the  eternal  fires  under  their  snows,  and  who 
melts  the  snows  of  half  the  world  by  an  influence  so  silent 
and  unostentatious  as  the  gentle  action  of  the  sun,  can  that 
Being  be  pleased  by  a  pageantry  so  shiftless  and  tinseled  ? 
Excuse  me  for  talking  so  plainly.  I  am  aware  how  sacred 
all  your  customs  must  be.  But  I  have  seen  so  much  of 
profession  in  all  forms  without  reality,  that  I  think  very 
little  of  the  external  forms  of  any  religion.  It  is  the 
substance  of  the  thing,  and  the  being  in  earnest  which  I 


430  Robert  Gordon. 

respect.  Of  the  place  where  Isabel  shall  worship  I  shall 
always  think,  in  the  phrase  of  the  Bible,  Tut  off  the  shoes 
from  off  thy  feet,  for  the  place  where  she  standeth  is  holy 
ground.'  Far  from  loving  her  the  less,  for  the  difference 
of  opinion  between  us,  the  honor  of  our  different  faiths,  I 
trust,  will  operate  upon  both,  to  strive  to  evince  which  faith 
will  inspire  the  most  tenderness,  forbearance  and  fidelity. 
All  the  hope  I  entertain  of  converting  her,  and  all  the  arts 
I  mean  to  try,  will  be  founded  on  the  purpose  to  show  her 
what  a  kind,  correct  and  undeviating  husband  a  Protestant 
can  be."  What  say  you,  Letitia  ?  If  the  respective  excel- 
lence of  our  faiths  be  put  upon  this  criterion,  I  am  fully 
aware  that  his  will  vanquish  mine,  and  that  I  shall  end  by 
becoming  a  heretic.  As  ever,  ISABEL. 

MEXICO,  Sept.,  1824. 
DEAREST  LETITIA  : 

I  have  received  your  kind  letter  and  the  beautiful  rosary 
accompanying  it.  I  thank  you  a  thousand  times  for  your 
kind  wishes.  I  have  no  apprehension  on  the  score  to  which 
you  warn  me.  I  have  no  fears  of  the  weather  getting 
duller  after  the  honeymoon  is  over.  I  only  fear  that  this 
more  intimate  view  will  inspire  idolatry,  and  that  I  shall 
be  too  much  tempted  to  surrender  my  judgment  and  rea- 
soning to  another.  When  I  loved  him  at  a  distance,  I 
knew  but  the  half  of  his  deserts.  You  must  see  the  man- 
ner, and  the  motive,  that  he  carries  with  him  to  the  sanctu- 
ary of  our  privacy ;  you  must  walk  and  ride  with  him,  as  I 
do;  you  must  catch  his  eye  as  we  scramble  together  up  the 
mountains,  or  listen  to  his  conversation  as  we  sail  together 
on  these  sweet  lakes ;  in  short,  you  must  find  him,  as  I  do, 
most  full  and  rich  and  delightful  in  that  dear  spot,  our 
home,  to  do  full  justice  to  his  character.  Let  the  stoics 
preach  that  this  life  never  does  or  can  yield  anything  but 


United  at  Last.  431 

satiety  and  disappointment.  I  know  better  by  experience. 
I  could  live  happily  for  a  whole  year  on  the  treasured 
recollection  of  the  past  few  days.  I  have  experienced 
more  enjoyment  in  a  day  since  marriage  than  in  all  my 
life  before. 

The  only  news  of  any  importance,  you  have  undoubt- 
edly heard,  that  the  ex-Emperor  has  sailed  with  his  whole 
family  for  Italy,  or,  as  it  is  generally  believed,  for  Eng- 
land. We  have  made  most  of  our  arrangements  and  will 
start  in  a  few  days  for  Durango.  We  are  all  impatient 
to  be  more  private  than  we  can  be  here.  Balls  and  visiting 
occupy  too  much  of  our  time.  I  want  the  shade  of  those 
venerable  sycamores  and  catalpas.  I  know  of  no  one  that 
I  shall  very  much  regret  leaving,  but  the  Conde's  family, 
particularly  his  daughter.  Indeed,  she  talks  of  accom- 
panying us.  I  am  sure  she  would  if  she  could  gain  the  con- 
sent of  her  father. 

I  am  lovingly  yours,  ISABEL. 

DURANGO,  October,  1824. 
DEAREST  LETITIA  :• 

I  am  so  delighted  with  the  regularity  of  your  corre- 
spondence, and  my  conscience  tells  me  it  is  a  duty  to  write 
to  you  so  long  as  you  feel  any  desire  to  hear  from  me. 

Before  we  left  the  city,  as  it  was  very  uncertain  when 
we  would  return  to  it,  we  visited  the  estate  in  the  valley 
granted  to  my  husband  by  the  junta.  We  found  it  to  be 
a  fine  estate,  though  it  had  gone  to  waste  from  the  troubles 
of  the  times.  I  felt  a  great  pleasure  in  being  here  from  the 
fact  that  it  belonged  to  him.  After  we  had  put  everything 
in  order  for  the  improvement  of  the  place,  we  returned  to 
the  city  and  visited  all  places  of  interest.  After  this  we 
visited  Guanajuato,  Queretaro,  and,  in  fact,  most  of  the 
principal  towns  of  a  country  so  delightful  in  climate,  so 


432  Robert  Gordon. 

grand  in  scenery,  so  inexhaustible  in  resources,  and  yet,  as 
my  husband  says,  abounding  in  misery,  want,  and  igno- 
rance, swarming  with  beggars  famishing  amidst  the  ex- 
uberance of  nature,  merely  from  the  blighting  influence  of 
oppression. 

The  government  of  the  patriots  is  constantly  acquir- 
ing strength.  The  peaceful  labors  of  agriculture  are  re- 
sumed. The  people  look  cheerful  and  full  of  hope.  The 
mines  are  beginning  to  be  worked  again.  My  husband's 
and  my  father's  estates  are  beginning  to  render  us  their 
accustomed  revenues. 

Nothing  could  exceed  the  joy  of  all  the  persons  of  our 
establishment  when  it  was  announced  to  them  that  we  were 
ready  to  set  out  for  Durango.  We  all  long  for  the  repose 
of  that  place.  Our  whole  cavalcade  numbered  about  fifty 
people,  and  when  we  alighted  at  a  hacienda  we  devoured 
all  that  was  eatable  about  the  establishment ;  but  unlike  all 
that  the  people  had  been  used  to  during  the  late  times  of 
anarchy  and  trouble,  we  remembered  to  pay  them  well.  I 
am  surprised  to  see  how  soon,  now  that  all  impediments  are 
removed,  my  father  has  become  deeply  attached  to  his 
son-in-law.  While  he  imagines  that  he  does  everything 
of  his  own  will,  in  fact  he  does  nothing  without  the  coun- 
sels of  Mr.  Gordon.  Would  you  believe  it,  my  father  has 
got  his  grammar  and  dictionary,  and  has  set  down  to  learn 
English.  I  have  to  endure  many  a  joke  about  the  influ- 
ence of  this  same  process  uponj  me.  Oh!  the  blow  was 
struck  before  that  time. 

We  have  been  to  visit  the  poor  English  widow,  under  the 
shade  of  whose  trees  he  first  confessed  that  he  loved  me. 
She  was  happy,  for  her  son  was  perfectly  recovered,  and  we 
gave  them  ample  cause  to  remember  us  gratefully,  for  we 
have  put  them  in  a  way  to  become  independent  on  the  score 
of  fortune.  My  husband  has  inquired  out  every  person  to 


United  at  Last.  433 

whom  he  has  heard  that  I  have  been  partial,  and  in  some 
way  he  has  made  them  feel  that  all  that  were  once  my 
friends  have  now  become  his. 

We  have  had  a  visit  to-day  from  his  former  pupil  and 
admirer,  Dorothea.  She  is  somewhat  untrained  and  wild 
in  the  expression  of  her  feelings,  but  is  a  very  good  girl ; 
and  her  affection  for  my  husband,  and  her  kindness  to  him 
when  he  was  on  his  way  as  a  volunteer  to  Mexico,  have  very 
much  endeared  her  to  me.  She  congratulated  me,  but  said 
that  she  envied  me;  for  that  she  had  loved  him 
sooner  and  more  than  I  did.  When  my  husband  came  in, 
a  burning  blush  evinced  her  sincerity.  He  saluted  her 
with  a  kiss,  according  to  the  custom  of  our  country. 

We  expect  to  start  in  the  early  spring  for  the  North, 
and  on  our  way  will  endeavor  to  find  Jeannette  Vonpelt. 
If  we  are  successful,  we  will  take  her  along  with  us,  for 
she  is  very  dear  to  us  both. 

Hoping  that  I  may  continue  to  hear  from  you, 

I  remain  yours  sincerely,  ISABEL. 


434  Robert  Gordon. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

CONCLUSION". 

HERE  terminated  the  letters  of  Isabel,  and  I  repaired  to 
my  fellow  traveler,  impatiently  requesting  him  to  redeem 
his  promise  that  he  would  bring  his  adventures  from 
where  his  wife  had  left  them,  to  the  present  time.  I 
pressed  him  to  be  expeditious,  for  the  mouth  of  Red  River 
was  already  in  view. 

He  resumed  as  follows :  "You  see,  sir,"  said  he,  "that  in 
the  eyes  of  my  wife  I  am  a  personage  of  no  small  impor- 
tance. I  have  nothing  further  to  relate  that  the  most 
gross  egotism  could  magnify  into  the  shape  of  adven- 
ture. In  these  days  a  peaceable  and  well  bred  man  may 
journey  from  Mexico  to  Boston  without  much  trouble, 
so  that  he  has  a  good  carriage  and  horses  and  plenty  of 
money;  and  as  we  have  these,  and  make  every  previous 
arrangement  that  experience  has  admonished,  or  opulence 
can  furnish,  this  journey  is  only  a  long,  tianquil  migra- 
tion from  one  region  to  another.  We  have  been  married 
nearly  four  years,  and  have  a  fine  boy,  a  happy  union  of 
Spanish  and  Yankee,  with  a  very  fair  complexion,  and 
eyes  and  hair  as  black  as  a  sloe,  to  my  mind  the  exact 
image  of  his  mamma.  The  grandparents  dote  on  him, 
and  claim  every  right  to  spoil  him  in  their  way. 

"Of  Isabel  I  can  truthfully  say  that  I  love  her  more  hear- 


Conclusion.  435 

tily  than  I  did  on  the  day  when  I  led  her  to  the  altar. 
We  have  experienced  no  such  period  as  the  honeymoon, 
and  we  have  never  had  a  word  that  could  be  called  a  dis- 
pute about  religion,  or  in  fact  about  anything  else.  Sir, 
I  have  been  absent  more  than  five  months,  and  I  have 
traveled  more  than  a  thousand  leagues.  You  can  hardly 
imagine  my  impatience  to  be  at  home.  If  I  had  wings 
you  would  soon  lose  sight  of  me  in  the  air.  I  fancy  that 
I  can  see  my  dear  Isabel  leading  our  boy  under  those  noble 
sycamores  in  front  of  our  mansion,  her  white  robes  flut- 
tering in  the  wind,  and  she  looking  impatiently  in  the 
direction  of  my  return.  May  she  have  been  in  the  charge 
of  good  angels !  Captain,  when  shall  we  be  at  Alexandria  ?" 
The  answer  was,  "Perhaps  in  two  days."  "Then  in  four- 
teen days  more  I  shall  be  at  home  and  never  will  I  leave 
it  again  without  the  dear  ones  that  I  have  left  there." 

"I,  too,"  said  I,  "have  been  absent  from  those  I  love  seven 
long  months,  and  I  left  them  a  miserable  invalid,  ex- 
pecting never  to  return.  I  am,  it  may  be,  as  impatient  as 
you,  and  the  more  so,  as  I  am  nearer  home.  But  I  am  par- 
ticularly interested  to  hear  something  further  about  the 
good  Jeannette." 

"I  am  entirely  willing,"  he  replied,  "to  inform  you  what 
became  of  her.  It  is  your  own  proper  eulogy  to  be 
interested  in  that  charming  girl,  as  good  as  she  is  beauti- 
ful. But  for  me,  most  people  consider  the  interest  of  such 
adventures  as  mine  at  an  end  the  moment  the  parties  are 
married ;  and  ours  is  an  old  story  of  that  sort  by  four  good 
long  years." 

"Yes,"  said  I,  "but  there  I  have  always  dif- 
fered from  the  rest.  My  interest  is  most  intense  at  the 
point  where  that  of  others  ends.  For  my  part,  I  am  more 
interested  in  you  and  your  Isabel  under  your  sycamores 
at  Durango  than  in  any  period  before  you  were  married. 


436  Robert  Gordon. 

If  happiness  on  earth  is  not  all  a  joke,  a  mere  poet's  reverie, 
it  is  only  to  be  found  in  the  shades  of  domestic  affection. 
I  have  meditated  on  all  sides  of  ambition,  distinction, 
wealth  and  pride,  and  my  feelings  constantly  returned  to 
the  ark  of  domestic  love  as  the  only  place  where  happiness 
can  find  rest  for  the  sole  of  her  foot." 

He  then  resumed : 

"About  the  middle  of  March,  1825,  we  escaped  from  the 
tears  and  embraces  of  my  wife's  family  and  started  with 
Fergus  and  his  wife  in  a  coach  for  the  American  frontier. 
It  was  during  the  balmy  days  of  spring.  We  had  a  delight- 
ful trip.  We  stopped  to  contemplate  the  battlefield  of 
Palos  Blancos  on  our  way  to  San  Antonio.  The  calabozo 
where  I  was  imprisoned,  the  terrible  spot  where  so  many 
poor  fellows  underwent  military  execution,  and  where  I 
expected  the  same  fate,  was  contemplated  with  solemn  in- 
terest; and  as  I  related  the  sad  story  a  couple  of  fine  eyes 
glistened  wifh  tears  of  sympathy. 

Nothing  happened  worth  mentioning,  until  we  arrived 
at  Natchitoches.  It  was  the  first  town  under  the  United 
States  government  that  Isabel  had  ever  seen ;  and  although 
it  is  an  odd  mixture  of  Spanish,  French  and  American, 
her  black  eyes  glistened  with  an  intense  curiosity. 

Here  I  was  recognized  by  many  of  my  compatriots  in  our 
unfortunate  attempt  at  revolutionizing  Texas.  They  re- 
ceived me  with  open  arms.  We  told  our  stories,  and  my 
classmate,  to  whom  I  was  much  attached,  who  was  prac- 
ticing law  here,  and  who  had  been  advanced  to  the  dignity 
of  judge,  cracked  some  of  our  college  jokes  again.  He 
related  his  adventures,  by  which,  from  the  very  lowest  part 
of  fortune's  wheel,  where  the  issues  of  the  battle  of  Palos 
Blancos  had  left  him,  he  had  gradually  risen  to  his  pres- 
ent independence  and  good  fortune. 

When  we  arrived  on  the  Mississippi,  she  never  tired  in 


Conclusion.  437 

admiring  the  beautiful  steamboat  that  took  us  in  at  the 
mouth  of  Ked  Kiver.  She  was  delighted  with  the  notion 
of  so  splendid  and  comfortable  a  hotel  floating  against 
the  current  of  the  river.  Then  her  curiosity  started  a 
thousand  questions  about  the  machinery,  etc. 

I  cannot  tell  you  how  much  I  enjoyed  this  journey  with 
my  wife;  fresh,  young,  pleased  with  everything,  reared  in 
a  convent  of  one  of  the  most  ancient  nations  in  Europe, 
and  here  examining  the  wonders  of  the  New  World.  Nat- 
chez, Louisville  and  still  more  Cincinnati  seemed  to  her 
fine  towns,  and  she  could  hardly  comprehend  that  they 
were  but  little  more  than  thirty  years  old.  The  number 
of  river  crafts  and  steamboats  that  were  continually  pass- 
ing up  and  down  was  a  fresh  source  of  astonishment. 
You  can  imagine  her  surprise  on  entering  the  neat  and 
beautiful  city  of  Baltimore,  with  its  noble  public  edifices, 
so  totally  unlike  a  Spanish  town.  Philadelphia  and 
New  York  increased  this  surprise,  and  more  than  all,  the 
multitudes  of  fine  looking  and  well  dressed  people  of  both 
sexes  that  were  threading  the  streets.  Accustomed  as  she 
had  been  to  see  such  crowds  of  beggars  even  in  the  City 
of  Mexico,  she  eagerly  inquired  where  we  contrived  to  dis- 
pose of  the  canaille  of  our  cities. 

My  own  heart  beat  high  when  I  entered  my  native 
State,  for  we  traveled  from  New  York  to  Boston  by  land, 
and  at  length  I  was  able  to  point  out  to  Isabel  the  spires 
of  the  latter  place,  now  considerably  more  numerous 
than  when  I  left  it.  I  sent  Fergus  forward  to  apprise  my 
friends  of  our  arrival,  while  we  enjoyed  a  day's  rest  and 
the  beauties  of  the  city.  After  we  had  made  a  suffi- 
cient number  of  purchases  for  presents,  we  set  out  for  my 
father's  place.  I  really  felt  some  refreshing  feelings  as 
we  started  with  my  fine  foreign  wife,  and  my  grand 
equipage  over  the  Charlestown  bridge  for  my  father's 


438  Robert  Gordon. 

house.  I  thought  how  nicely  I  would  dumbfound  those 
good  natured  soothsayers  who  predicted  that  I  should 
come  out  at  the  little  end  of  the  horn !  How  comfortable 
the  young  men  would  feel  who  envied  me  the  distinction 
of  a  college  education,  and  who  prophesied  that  the  pride 
of  the  lazy  fellow  would  have  to  come  down  after  all !  I 
might  exercise  a  little  quiet,  snug  exultation  in  the 
faces  of  those  who  foretold  that  I  should  lay  my  bones  as 
a  beggar  in  the  forests  of  the  West.  These  were  but  the 
childish  heritage  of  Adam,  and  I  cast  them  from  me  in  a 
moment. 

I  will  leave  you  to  imagine  my  feelings  as  we  proceeded 
on  our  journey.  Tears,  driven  from  their  fountains  by 
confused  and  blended  feelings,  filled  my  eyes.  "How  far," 
I  cried,  "I  have  wandered !  How  much  I  have  seen ! 
How  often  I  have  been  in  danger!  More  than  once  my 
grave  seems  to  have  been  prepared  for  me!  And  behold 
I  am  here  again,  safe,  sound,  and  happy,  with  a  fortune  be- 
yond my  most  avaricious  wish,  and  the  prettiest  and  best 
wife  in  the  world.  Look,  Isabel,  yonder  are  the  pines 
whose  moaning  tops  first  gave  me  the  mingled  feelings  of 
awe,  sublimity  and  melancholy.  Yonder  is  the  sweet 
stream  where  in  my  boyhood  days  I  have  bathed  and 
angled  a  thousand  times.  I  can  now  distinguish  the  door 
of  the  church.  Venerable  old  pastor!  Thy  loud  and 
earnest  voice,  which  resounded  there  for  more  than  half  a 
century,  is  still  in  death.  Thy  wornout  frame  is  removed 
from  the  pulpit  to  the  churchyard  and  a  young  man  'who 
knew  not  Joseph,'  has  arisen  in  his  place."  Feelings  of 
this  sort  continued  to  crowd  upon  me  until  we  were  recog- 
nized by  my  native  villagers.  It  was  a  perfect  press.  In 
a  few  moments  I  had  the  satisfaction  of  embracing  my 
good  father  and  mother,  my  brothers  and  sisters,  and  find- 
ing all  well.  I  paused  with  astonishment  in  looking  at  my 


Conclusion.  439 

mother.  I  had  been  gone  eight  years,  and  she  looked 
eight  years  younger  than  when  I  left  home.  My  father 
had  attained  the  dizzy  heights  of  his  ambition.  He  was 
an  esquire,  a  member  of  the  General  Court,  carried  a  large 
silver-headed  cane,  and  wore  a  long-tailed  wig.  My  sis- 
ters, bless  my  heart,  I  should  not  have  known  them! 
They  had  long  Italian  faces,  and  made  my  wife  as  pretty 
dancing-school  beaus  as  you  could  imagine.  My  brothers 
were  more  unsophisticated  and  received  me  with  true 
Yankee  welcome.  There  was  something  of  mincing  and 
restraint  for  some  time,  and  apparently  a  touch  at  cere- 
mony. But  Isabel,  foreigner  though  she  was,  had  good 
sense  and  instinctive  perception  of  what  is  right  every- 
where. She  soon  put  them  all  at  their  ease  by  a  joy  so 
evidently  sincere,  by  an  affection  for  everything  that  apper- 
tained to  me  so  manifest,  that  in  half  a  day  she  was  a  sister 
and  daughter  in  the  family. 

I  can  hardly  convey  to  you  an  idea  of  our  happiness. 
We  had  invitations,  dinners  and  parties  without  number. 
Isabel  goes  regularly  with  me  to  our  worship.  She  was 
charmed  with  our  singing  and  our  young  minister,  but 
returned  to  the  strictness  of  her  own  religion.  With 
respect  to  our  discipline  and  manners  she  has  all  the 
hearty  admiration  of  an  ancient  Puritan.  She  said,  "I 
admire  the  cleverness  and  industry  of  your  young  women. 
I  reverence  those  institutions,  and  especially  your  free 
schools,  which  spread  intelligence  and  emulation  through 
the  community.  My  heart  is  affected  with  the  kindness 
of  your  ordinances  in  regard  to  the  suffering  and  the  poor, 
and  with  your  numerous  charities." 

We  will  have  a  good  house  and  grounds  at  the  North, 
and  every  spring  and  autumn  will  imitate  the  birds.  We 
are  not  so  foolish  as  to  expect  "no  sorrow  in  our  note/' 
though  we  mean  to  have  "no  winter  in  our  year." 


440  Robert  Gordon. 

My  father  remonstrated  with  me  on  the  folly  of  ever 
returning  to  Mexico.  He  would  have  me  sell  all  there 
and  fix  myself  permanently  here ;  and  he  expressed  so  much 
reluctance  at  the  idea  of  another  separation  that  I  invited 
him  to  share  my  journey  with  me,  and  spend  the"  next  win- 
ter with  me  in  Durango.  "Look  here,  son  Kob,"  said  he, 
"I  would  not  swap  that  orchard  and  the  broad  meadow 
and  the  barn  hill  field  for  all  the  land  in  Mexico.  As  to 
your  Dons  and  Condes  and  all  that  stuff,  see  this  long- 
tailed  wig;  I  would  rather  be  a  justice  of  the  peace,  and 
of  the  sessions,  in  this  town,  and  in  the  State  of  Massa- 
chusetts, than  to  be  the  first  lord  in  Mexico.  No !  no ! 
Your  wife  is  a  sweet  woman,  that's  not  to  be  disputed; 
and  the  Mexican  dollars  are  all  very  well  in  their  place. 
But  you  will  never  catch  me  beyond  the  great  river  Con- 
necticut." 

Although  my  father  was  not  disposed  to  migrate  with 
us,  there  were  others  that  were  full  willing;  and  we  could 
have  carried  back  half  the  village,  had  we  chosen;  I 
have  a  young  sister,  Alice,  who  did  accompany  us  back,  and 
Isabel  thinks  as  much  of  her  as  if  she  were  her  own  sister. 
It  was  a  sad  day  for  the  village  when  we  started  on  our 
return. 

One  word  about  Jeannette  to  satisfy  you  on  that  score, 
and  this  story  is  at  an  end.  I  have  been  at  the  North  to 
see  if  our  country  house  will  be  ready  for  us  next  spring, 
and  to  attend  to  Jeannette's  money  affairs.  I  should  have 
told  you,  but  I  did  not  wish  to  break  the  thread  of  dis- 
course, that  on  our  first  trip  to  the  North,  we  found  Jean- 
nette in  the  family  of  the  Methodist  minister.  He  lived 
in  a  small  village  on  the  Mississippi,  where  he  was  a  local 
preacher.  The  boat  stopped  there  to  take  on  wood.  I 
sent  in  my  name  and  was  instantly  admitted.  At  sight 
of  me  she  sprang  from  her  chair,  and  the  transition  in 


Conclusion.  441 

her  countenance  from  crimson  to  deadly  pale,  showed 
that  she  was  deeply  affected.  She  had  heard  that  I  was 
married,  and  her  countenance  soon  became  calm.  There 
was  the  same  lovely  face,  and  there  sat  upon  it  a  kind  of 
pale,  pensive  and  indefinable  melancholy.  As  soon  as  I 
told  her  that  Isabel  was  on  the  boat  and  wished  to  see  her, 
she  instantly  seized  her  bonnet  and  accompanied  me  on 
board.  I  felt  happy  to  see  those  lovely  women  exchange 
all  the  tokens  of  a  most  cordial  regard,  although  each  knew 
how  I  had  stood  in  the  affections  of  the  other,  for  I  had  in- 
formed my  wife  that  Jeannette  had  had  the  first  offer  of 
my  hand.  She  related  to  us  how  she  had  passed  her  time 
since  she  had  left  me.  It  was  a  scene  of  sad  and  tire- 
some uniformity.  Disappointed  in  the  warmest  affection 
of  the  heart,  and  that  heart  peculiarly  constituted  to  re- 
ceive the  purest  impressions  of  religion,  it  was  in  a  state 
exactly  fitted  for  the  moulding  of  such  a  man  as  he  was,  with 
whom  she  sojourned.  With  religion  always  in  his  mouth, 
and  with  enough  of  morals  and  strictness  to  be  always 
respectable;  full  of  long  and  reiterated  observances,  and 
apparently  always  having,  as  the  phrase  is,  the  world  under 
his  feet;  aiming  always,  too,  in  his  religious  exercises  at 
the  feelings,  placing  much  dependence  upon  frames  of 
mind,  and  considering  the  exultation  or  the  depression  of 
feeling,  as  the  graduated  marks  of  nearness  to  God,  or 
distance  from  Him,  it  was  no  wonder  that  he  gained  upon 
the  sensitive  and  thoughtful  nature  of  his  fair  associate. 
There  was  something  imposing,  too,  in  this  assumed  aus- 
terity of  a  young  and  handsome  man,  something  sublime 
in  this  apparent  conquest  of  all  earthly  affections.  Jean- 
nette became  a  regular  attendant  at  their  class  meetings. 
She  made,  indeed,  she  confessed,  a  poor  hand  at  relating 
her  experiences.  But  some  considerate  sister  in  the  meet- 
ing was  always  ready  to  eke  it  but  with  something  of  her 


442  Robert  Gordon. 

own.  She  discovered  in  the  end,  that  she  had  always 
been  in  training,  always  under  an  invisible,  unobserved 
inspection.  "She  admired,"  she  said,  "the  strictness  of 
observance  in  the  family."  But  her  native  taste  and  tact 
always  rose  against  all  the  cant  of  their  sect,  the  nasal 
twang,  and  the  uproar  and  riot  of  their  worship.  She 
thought  their  ardor,  their  devotedness  to  their  cause,  the 
tie  of  kind  and  fraternal  feeling  toward  each  other, 
which  binds  them  together,  and  which  is  so  little  like  the 
cold  selfishness  of  other  denominations  in  their  intercourse 
together,  worthy  of  all  imitation  and  all  praise. 

In  this  way,  without  any  particular  affection  for  this 
man,  she  was  in  a  fair  way  to  become  his  wife.  He  had 
offered  himself,  and  in  her  loneliness  she  painfully  felt 
the  want  of  a  protector,  and  in  her  state  of  mind  she  prob- 
ably thought  one  good  man  would  do  as  well  as  another. 
Unhappily  for  him,  a  scheme  of  deep  contrivance,  and  a 
plot  to  bring  this  about,  was  defeated  by  one  of  those  acci- 
dents by  which  heaven  seems  to  delight  to  frustrate  the 
deepest  laid  plans  of  human  wisdom.  A  letter  sent  by 
the  minister  to  his  sister,  who  was  away  on  a  visit,  was 
lost  by  a  little  black  boy  who  did  errands  for  the  family. 
He  was  carrying  this  letter  and  was  overtaken  by  a  thun- 
der storm.  He  was  frightened  at  the  storm  and  lost  the 
letter;  and  to  avoid  the  whipping  generally  consequent 
upon  such  an  act,  he  declared  that  he  had  put  the  letter 
in  the  office  as  he  was  charged.  It  was  dropped,  as  it 
happened,  in  a  grove  through  which  Jeannette  was  accus- 
tomed to  take  daily  walks.  She  saw  the  letter  lying  on  the 
ground,  and  recognized  the  handwriting  of  her  host  and 
admirer.  It  had  been  wet  in  the  storm,  and  the  wind  in 
driving  it  against  the  bushes  had  broken  it  open.  Jean- 
nette took  it  up,  and  her  name  struck  her  as  the  first 
word  she  saw  in  it.  Some  vague  suspicion  that  she  was 


Conclusion.  443 

practiced  upon,  stimulated  her  curiosity  to  read,  and  as  it 
was  from  her  future  husband  to  his  sister,  she  felt  justi- 
fied in  availing  herself  of  this  unsought  opportunity  o| 
entering  into  their  secret  thoughts.  Such  a  disgusting 
scene  of  palpable  contrivance  between  them  to  bring  about 
the  union,  disclosed  itself,  feelings  so  basely  mercenary, 
such  curious  replies  to  the  sister,  who  seems  in  a  letter  to 
which  this  was  an  answer,  to  have  been  stipulating,  and 
rather  disposed  to  complain  about  her  share  of  the  divi- 
dends in  the  concern,  that  she  tore  the  letter  in  pieces, 
indignantly  broke  off  the  negotiations,  and  told  the  gen- 
tleman that  she  had  changed  her  mind.  Nothing  could 
exceed  his  disappointment  and  exasperation.  From  that 
time  she  had  suffered  everything,  had  been  hinted  at, 
talked  about,  and  had  endured  every  sort  of  persecution. 
They  had  even  resorted  to  the  despicable  revenge  of  defam- 
ing her  with  the  villagers,  and  she  had  been  seeking  for  a 
change  of  place  when  we  arrived.  "Dear  Isabel,"  said  she, 
"I  hope  you  will  allow  me  to  accompany  you."  Isabel 
told  her  that  it  was  the  very  thing  she  intended  to  pro- 
pose. We  immediately  sent  for  her  trunks.  We  called 
for  her  bill,  and  when  sent,  we  doubled  the  pay,  but  still 
they  sent  her  away  with  deep  murmurs  and  denunciations 
of  the  wrath  of  heaven,  which  threw  a  gloom  over  her  long 
after  we  were  under  way.  I  told  her  that  it  was  well  for 
us  all  that  there  is  a  higher  and  more  equitable  tribunal 
than  mere  human  opinion. 

She  went  on  with  us,  loving  and  being  loved;  Isabel 
regards  her  as  a  sister.  In  my  native  village  I  have  ob- 
served the  old  minister  was  dead,  and  a  young  one  settled 
in  his  place.  I  considered  him  an  exemplary,  amiable  and 
accomplished  man.  Jeannette  was  received  in  my  father's 
family  as  a  child.  The  minister  saw  her  there,  and  loved 
her  at  first  sight.  He  made  his  offer  through  me,  and  she 


444  Robert  Gordon. 

in  making  her  decision,  consulted  my  wife  and  me,  ac- 
knowledging that  she  hardly  thought  that  she  could  love 
him  with  that  ardor  and  romanticity  that  some  considered 
necessary  to  marriage ;  but  that  she  thought  him  a  serious 
man,  and  a  gentleman,  and  liked  him  very  well,  and  would 
be  guided  in  her  answer  exactly  by  our  opinions.  My  wife 
and  I  were  unanimously  for  him. 

I  waited  on  him  with  the  decision.  Poor  fellow!  He 
is  a  nervous  man,  and  loves  with  all  his  might,  and  I  could 
see  that  he  thrilled  with  the  agony  of  apprehension  and 
suspense  to  the  deepest  nerve  of  his  frame.  I  had  once 
sat  on  that  gridiron  myself,  and  had  a  suitable  fellow  feel- 
ing. He  was  not  long  in  suspense.  His  rapture,  of  course, 
was  proportioned  to  his  doubts  and  fears.  We  saw  them 
married,  and  happy;  he  has  secured  a  most  amiable 
wife,  and  an  independent  fortune,  and  we  a  most  delight- 
ful appendage  to  our  society  when  we  reside  in  the  village. 

I  have  only  to  add  that  when  I  parted  from  this  amiable 
man  hurrying  back  to  his  Isabel  with  the  eagerness  and  im- 
patience of  love,  my  fancy  ran  on  to  sketching  his  meeting 
with  his  family  in  Durango.  I  was  verging  toward  some- 
thing like  envy  at  the  idea  of  the  rare  felicity  that  seemed 
to  have  fallen  to  his  lot.  But  on  the  whole,  I  remembered 
how  soon  the  great  leveler,  Death,  will  set  all  these  things 
on  a  footing  of  equality  and  every  emotion  of  that  sort 
died  away.  I  returned  to  the  retirement  and  obscurity 
of  my  own  family,  blessing  God  that  he  had  once  more 
restored  me  to  them  in  health. 


THE  END. 


A     000  094  790     3 


